


Out of the Woods

by orphan_account



Series: Never Let Me Go [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7954981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Happily-ever-after certainly isn't the end of the Doctor and River's adventures… nor is it the end of their problems. When their friend Jenna mysteriously disappears, River and the Doctor embark on a search to find her. But Art's got problems of his own to deal with. And what's Donna Noble doing in the Library?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys! This is the sequel to Never Let Me Go, so it'll probably make a lot more sense if you read that one first. I'll be posting one chapter a week on Sundays, hopefully. Thank you all for reading!  
> -Ryann

“Oof! Watch it, River.”

Her elbow was poking into his stomach, strands of her curly hair tickling his cheek.

“I’m trying, sweetie,” she hissed. “Now sit still and shut up before they find us!”

He shifted a little more, but it was futile, so he finally just gave up and sat still.

They were in a broom closet—they’d managed to unwittingly get themselves into trouble and had sought out a hiding place, but what was new?—in 1920s New York City. The Doctor had always had a fondness for dress-up—so did River, if she was being perfectly honest—and where better to dress up than a Roaring Twenties party? He’d managed to sneak them into a high-society gathering (without even using the psychic paper, which meant he’d won his bet with River) in the style of Gatsby, and they’d been having a splendid time until the Doctor had unwittingly insulted the governor of New York. Generally an agreeable man, Governor Al Smith was a man staunchly against Prohibition, a position which he seemed to have taken a bit too far on this particular night—he was completely drunk and a heck of a lot less reasonable than usual.

The Doctor had commented on the governor’s nose—which, honestly, River hardly thought he had the right to do considering the state of his own chin—and, apparently, Governor Smith had heard that one a few too many times in elementary school. It wasn’t even a particularly large nose, as River had tried to argue in defense of the governor, but by then it had been too late. The night ended, as it always did, with the two of them running. They had been pursued through a wealthy man’s mansion by a (more than slightly) intoxicated crowd, which had resulted with the two of them stuck in a tiny broom closet which clearly was not intended to hold one person, let alone the two of them and River’s hair (which, in the Doctor’s opinion, took up enough space to merit mention).

“You’re standing on my toe, Doctor,” River whispered, and he shifted slightly.

“Well, _your_ elbow is jabbing me in the stomach!” he complained, perhaps a bit too loudly, because just then the sounds outside the door quieted.

“I _told_ you to shut up!” she hissed as the door opened to reveal a familiar face.

There was beat in which River and the Doctor exchanged a glance, both confused. It was the Doctor who finally voiced his confusion.

“What are _you_ doing here?”

“What the hell are you talking about? I work here. And besides, I could ask you the same thing. It’s not every day that I find flappers in my broom closet. What were you doing in there, anyway? It’s not a bloody snog box.”

Snog box. That was precisely what she’d called the TARDIS the first time he’d dragged her inside—proper her, anyway.

There were a lot of questions he could have—and should have—asked her, but what came out of his mouth was, “What are _you_ doing in _America_?”

She rolled her eyes as if she’d heard the question a thousand times before. “I could just as well ask you the same question. You’re British, too. Where from? I can usually tell by the accent, but yours is… sort of different, I guess. Hard to place.”

“I’m not from Britain—long story, it’ll have to wait, we’re kind of in a hurry here,” he added in response to the question he could see forming on the tip of her tongue, grabbing River’s hand and pushing past the woman and out in the hall. He could hear the drunken throng approaching from the next corridor over and knew they didn’t have much time.

“What are you doing here? Mister Fredericks doesn’t generally associate with British high society. You’re not some sort of nobility, are you? He doesn’t like nobility.”

“Who’s Mister Fredericks?” He and River were rather preoccupied with scanning the walls, each with their own sonic screwdriver. The passage they were in ended abruptly; if they were found here, there would be nowhere to run.

“The owner of this house.” She narrowed her eyes at them. “You’re not supposed to be here, are you?”

“Not really, no,” the Doctor admitted with a grimace, and turned to River. “It’s solid, unfortunately.”

River smirked. “Not completely, sweetie, as you’d know if you’d put a red setting on yours as well.”

“It doesn’t look pretty that way!” he protested.

“Does it really matter? With you in that getup, I don’t imagine anyone would notice.”

“Oi!”

“Ahem. I’m still here,” their companion pointed out.

“Oh, right, you are. Right.” The mob had turned the corner and had spotted them. “Cover your ears.”

The Doctor nodded at River and they pointed their screwdrivers at each other, producing an ear-splitting shriek as the two sonic devices reacted to one another. Fortunately, it had the desired effect: the wall in front of them gave way to the sonic vibrations, collapsing in a shower of dust and debris that River knew was going to be hell to get out of her hair later. Right then, however, it didn’t matter. The mob was coming at them from the other end of the passageway, now equipped with what looked suspiciously like the swords that had been hanging above the fireplace in the grand ballroom.

“Clara Oswald, River Song, get ready to run!” He certainly shouldn’t have been as excited as he was, but there was a huge grin on the Doctor’s face. This was, after all, what he loved best: the thrill of the adventure, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he ran hand in hand with his wife.

“What the hell are you doing? And how do you know my name?!” Clara shouted, ears still ringing from the sonic feedback.

“Run now, talk later!” the Doctor said, grabbing River’s hand. With the mob of men fast approaching from the other end of the hall, Clara had no choice. She ducked into the shadowy opening behind the Doctor and his wife and tried her very best to ignore the part of her that said this was a very bad plan.

***

After several hours—if it wasn’t, in reality, that long, to Clara it certainly seemed like it was—of clambering through the innards of the building and even climbing down an elevator shaft (Clara wasn’t afraid of heights, but that had almost been too much even for her), they finally made it back to Clara’s room, a small space situated at the back of the house. Covered in dirt, soot, and other unmentionable things, they collapsed on various pieces of furniture throughout the room.

When her heartbeat had slowed and her breathing had at last quieted enough for her to be able to speak, Clara rose, hands on her hips and that uniquely Clara sort of glare on her face.

She got straight to the point. “Who are you and what do you want with me?”

For once he managed to give a straight answer, much to River’s surprise. “I’m the Doctor and this is my wife, River Song.”

“Doctor who?”

He chuckled and River elbowed him in the side, causing him to shoot her a wounded expression.

“Just the Doctor,” River explained before he had a chance to. “That’s his name. As to what we want with you, we were running—all his fault, might I add, _he’s_ the one that insulted the governor—and you happened to open the door to the broom closet.”

“How do you know my name, then?” Clara didn’t appear satisfied with this explanation.

“Long story,” the Doctor said quickly.

She folded her arms across her chest. “I think you owe me a decent explanation after all that.”

“We’re time travelers,” River said before the Doctor could launch into an overly-long and complicated explanation which would undoubtedly take more time than was strictly necessary. “We know you because we’ve met you before, at a different time.”

Clara arched a brow. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth,” the Doctor said. “Anyway, thanks for your help. We’ll let you get on with your life now.”

He rose from the chair in which he was sitting and headed for the door; River, who was already on her feet, followed him.

“Wait!” Clara called after them, causing them to pause. “You can’t just say something like that and then leave me here!”

River resisted the urge to sigh; the Doctor always had this effect on people. She really couldn’t complain, she knew. He’d dazzled her just as he had all those others. But she knew exactly where this was headed, and she knew what the outcome would be if he asked her to travel with them. This Clara may have been from a different time period and a different place, but she was the same girl at heart.

The Doctor looked over at River with a questioning glance, and, reluctantly, she nodded.

“You know… you could always come with us. If you wanted to, that is,” he added hastily.

Clara looked tempted for a moment, but then she shook her head. “I can’t. I have a life here, people who care about me. But, Doctor… you said you’d seen me before. Does that mean you’ll be back, then? In my… future?”

The Doctor grinned, tipping his top hat to her. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

***

It was another normal day in the Library; Jenna had just gotten off work and was on her way to visit her sort-of-boyfriend, Art. She didn’t know what to call him; he’d been her best friend for the first ten years of her life and had gone missing for the past fifteen years. Now that he’d returned, he was her friend again… and possibly something more. In the three months since he’d returned, they’d become closer than ever before. Sometimes she wondered if he saw her as more than a friend; if she was honest with herself, she often thought about the possibility of it in a wistful sort of way. He was handsome and smart and the only one she trusted the way she had trusted her mother before she’d died.

She was walking through the lobby now on her way home, absentmindedly playing with a strand of her curly hair and thinking of Art, when someone tapped on her shoulder. She started, surprised, and turned to face the stranger, who wore an expression that was somewhere between utter confusion and anger.

“Uh, hello,” Jenna said, confused. “Anything I can help you with?”

The woman’s expression shifted rapidly from anger to confusion and back before finally settling on anger.

“Where the hell am I?!”

“Biographies section. Currently you’re in the lobby; A-M is in that section through the left door, N-Z to the right.”

The woman gave her a look that clearly said _for God’s sake, do you think I’m a bloody idiot?_ and repeated her question.

“Where the bloody hell am I?! I see the signs, yes, but I am _not_ looking for the Biographies section.” She paused a moment and then resumed speaking, talking slowly and enunciating each word clearly. “I. Am. Looking. For. The. Planet. Earth. Do you speak English?”

“I’ve read about it,” Jenna said, “but I have absolutely no idea how to speak it. It’s an archaic language; went extinct long ago. But I can understand you perfectly well. There’s no need to talk slowly. And in answer to your first question, I’m afraid you’re not on Earth. You’re in the Library, ma’am,” Jenna finished, puzzled. How could anyone on the planet not know where they were? It was sort of difficult to end up on an entirely different planet without actively trying.

“I’m speaking English!”

“You can’t be; I wouldn’t understand you.”

“I don’t know any other languages! Well, apart from French in secondary school, but I was rubbish at it. Barely passed my A Levels. So I must be speaking English.”

Jenna shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Whatever language you are or aren’t speaking, I can understand you perfectly. You’re in the Library.”

The woman looked over at her. “The Library.”

“Yes, the Library. The biggest Library in the universe, owned and operated by the Felman Lux Corporation.”

“How did I get here?” For some reason, something about this whole thing seemed familiar, but she couldn’t put a finger on what it was.

“I have no idea,” Jenna said honestly. “Um, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to be getting home soon.”

“Wait! You’re just going to leave me here?” She sounded indignant. “I’m on some ridiculous alien planet or possibly just having one of my really bad migraine headaches—going to be both at this rate!—and you’re just going to skip off like that?”

Jenna sighed and bit back the sarcastic remark she was all too tempted to make. “I’m supposed to be on a date.”

“I’m supposed to be getting married!” the woman practically screeched. “For the second time, I’m supposed to be married and something like _this_ happens! Unbelievable. This is just so _bloody_ unbelievable.”

Jenna looked her up and down; it was true, she was wearing a traditional white dress and a veil over her ginger hair.

“Um… I’m sorry?” she ventured.

“Oh, _that_ makes a difference,” she snarked. “Sorry doesn’t do anything to get me back where I’m supposed to be, now does it?!”

“Well, yelling at me certainly doesn’t do you any good, either,” Jenna said icily. “Now, if there’s something I can _actually_ help you with, please say so. If not, I’ll be on my way.”

At this, the woman seemed to back down, though her attitude certainly hadn’t improved. She folded her arms and gave a little huff of disapproval. “It’s impossible to get a straight answer out of you. I just want to go home; I’m missing _my own wedding_ , don’t you understand that? And for the second time.”

“You’ve missed your wedding once already?” Jenna asked, trying not to laugh at this admission.

The woman waved her off. “Different man.”

“So you didn’t marry him, then?”

“No. He was… he was… I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember just now.” She frowned, looking puzzled.

“Are you all right?” Jenna asked, concerned.

“I’m always all right.” She shook her head, seeming to shake off whatever it was she couldn’t remember. “So, what’s your name?”

“Jenna,” she said, holding out her hand. The woman took it and gave it a firm shake.

“Nice to meet you, Jenna. I’m Donna Noble.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Hope you are having a good week. I'd like to take the time to dedicate this chapter to the people who died in the 9/11 attacks fifteen years ago and to the innocent Muslims who have been discriminated against ever since. Here's to hoping for a brighter future for all of us.  
> Thanks so much for reading.  
> -Ryann

“Donna Noble?” Jenna repeated.

“Yes,” the woman—Donna—said, back to her former state of impatience. “What are you giving me that look for?”

“Nothing,” Jenna said quickly, but the name was familiar to her. The ginger woman from Lux’s autobiography… hadn’t her name been Donna? The Doctor had mentioned her, back when they’d first met.

_You mean me and Donna. She’s… safe. She’s at home, where she should be._

A few months previous, she would have dismissed the thought as irrational. Now, however, Jenna knew better than to expect life to make sense. Time travel didn’t make sense; there wasn’t any point in denying it. She just had to cope with it the best she could and not let anything throw her.

“So,” Jenna said conversationally, “where are you from, then?”

“Earth. Chiswick, London, United Kingdom, Earth, the Sol-”

“I know where Earth is,” Jenna interrupted her with a touch of amusement. “London, too. It’s rather famous, and, of course, that’s where my ancestors were from. Millenniums ago now, but the point is, I’m familiar with it.”

Donna frowned. “You’re not saying… we’re in a different time completely?”

“Well, that depends on when you’re from.”

“The 21st century.” Donna looked absolutely baffled.

“This is the 52nd century. I’d say you’re quite a long way from home.”

“Yeah, I’ll say,” Donna muttered.

“So, um… how about you come back to my place and I’ll see if I can get some help?”

“Not much else I can do, is there?” Donna shrugged. “That seems as good a plan as any.”

“Good. I think I know someone who can help. Just follow me; it’s not far from here.”

***

“Well, that was certainly an adventure,” River said wryly when they at last made it back to the TARDIS.

He grinned. “Are you complaining?”

She rolled her eyes. “Do I ever pass up the chance for an adventure, sweetie?”

“I suppose not.” The Doctor smiled, then gestured to his clothing. “We should get cleaned up.”

“We really should,” she agreed. “And, Doctor?”

“What?” he asked, somewhat warily.

She smirked. “You owe me another pair of shoes."

Of course he did. He knew River would always blame him for the loss of her beloved shoes whether or not it had been his fault (admittedly, it _was_ usually his fault). The thought made him smile—though he’d never admit it to her, he thought it was worth the shoes sacrificed just to see her reaction—but he knew better than to voice this thought aloud.

***

Once they got back to her flat, Jenna directed Donna to the sofa, where she sat as Jenna made a phone call to Art. He reassured her that he understood why she had to call off their date; still, though, she was disappointed. She had a feeling that this new mystery was going to take up a lot of her time—in other words, the date was going to have to be postponed for an indefinite amount of time.

The second call she made was to the Doctor; he had said he’d known a ginger woman named Donna, the same one her ancestor’s autobiography had mentioned as the Doctor’s companion at the Library. It seemed impossible that this could be her, but that didn’t dissuade Jenna. After all, she’d seen many things in the last months that she’d previously thought to be impossible—time travel being only one of them.

The phone rang several times before finally informing her that the Doctor had not set up his voicemail (at which she had to laugh—the TARDIS had voicemail?! And furthermore, it was so very typical of the Doctor not to set it up.). She redialed the number with the same result. At last she was forced to admit defeat and returned to Donna, who was busy leafing through one of the many novels that made their home on Jenna’s coffee table. At her entrance, the ginger woman looked up.

“Well?”

Jenna sighed. “I couldn’t get ahold of him. Which is typical, but still. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“And why are you certain this man can even help me?”

“He’s got a time machine,” Jenna told her, at which Donna looked very skeptical. Seeing the woman’s expression, Jenna added, “I know. I didn’t believe it at first, either, but it’s true. It’s called the TARDIS and he uses it to travel through time and space.”

“TARDIS?” Donna echoed. “Kind of a rubbish name, if you ask me.”

“It’s an acronym. Time and relative dimensions—sometimes just dimension—in space.” She paused, studying Donna’s expression. “That doesn’t… sound familiar to you, does it?”

“Should it?”

“No,” Jenna said hastily. “I was just wondering. 21st century Earth is one of his favorite places, that’s all. Anyway, we’ll just have to wait until he decides to answer his phone.”

“And when might that be?” Donna inquired.

Jenna shrugged. “Who knows? But River’s sure to be with him, so that improves our chances some. She’s generally more responsible—though responsible probably isn’t the best word to describe River,” she added as an afterthought. “Trouble seems to stick to those two like glue.”

“Who?” Donna frowned, rubbing her temples. She was missing something here, something important. Unfortunately, she was rather too occupied with the headache that was brewing to pay too much attention to the feeling of déjà vu she was having.

“The Doctor—that’s the time traveler’s name, or what he goes by, at any rate—and Professor River Song. His wife. They’re the ones I’m trying to call.”

Just then, a device in Jenna’s pocket beeped. She pulled it out and studied the screen; it was unfamiliar to Donna, but obviously some sort of communications device. Jenna frowned.

“Sorry,” she told Donna as soon as she’d finished reading the message. “That was my father.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” Donna observed with a sympathetic tone. She certainly understood; she had never gotten along well with her mother as a child, and that certainly hadn’t changed when she’d grown up.

Jenna sighed. “I love my father, don’t get me wrong. But, well… let’s just say that we don’t exactly see eye to eye on some things. Most things, to be honest.” She paused. “But that’s got nothing to do with the current issue. Would you mind waiting here? There’s something I need to go check; there was a power surge from the mainframe a few minutes ago. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”

“All right, then. I’ll be here.” There wasn’t really anywhere else for her to go, Donna thought wryly, wistfully dreaming of her wedding. What would everyone else think had happened to her? But there wasn’t much she could do about it until Jenna managed to contact the Doctor, so she settled in to wait.

***

It wasn’t long before River had showered and changed into a much more comfortable (and functional) outfit than the flapper-style dress and heels she’d been wearing earlier. _That_ dress, covered in cobwebs and other substances she didn’t want to think about, had gone directly into the incinerator. There was no saving it after what it had gone through, which honestly didn’t concern River all that much. She had other things on her mind.

Seeing Clara that day had drudged up all sorts of old memories, much as she hated to admit it. She’d seen the way the original Clara—twenty-first century Clara, that was—had looked at the Doctor, and seen it reflected in flapper-Clara’s eyes again today. What was it about him that dazzled women, made them want to do crazy things for him, sacrifice their lives for him, even?

Well, she wasn’t exactly in a position to judge, considering that she’d fallen for him just the same as all the others (and had, in fact, sacrificed her life to save his in the end). Except she was the only one he’d married, the only one he loved back.

Or was she?

It wasn’t the first time she’d wondered what he had done in those thousand years while she’d been in the Library. Surely he’d been involved with a woman since her—and why shouldn’t he? She had been dead, or close enough to it, anyway. River knew she couldn’t blame him for moving on, for being happy without her. It _shouldn’t_ hurt her if he had, because he had every right to and that was what she would have wanted for him, anyway. But she had never dared ask because she knew that if he had loved someone else, if he had replaced her, her hearts would break.

She tried to focus on the book she held in her hands—the TARDIS had an expansive library (and a swimming pool in said library, which certainly made things interesting), so it hadn’t been at all difficult to find something to read. What _had_ proved difficult was focusing on the book. River had read the same sentence a full seven times without processing it when she finally set the book down on a side table and let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

Of course, that was the moment her husband chose to enter the room.

“What’s bothering you, River?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “I was just reading.”

There was no point in dredging it up now; they were happy, and part of her thought it really might be better not to know. It was strange; she was more open with him now, but never could she really let go and let him see all of her. Maybe it was left over from before; she didn’t really know. Maybe, deep down, she still feared that he would leave her if she showed him just how vulnerable she really was.

He crossed to the table and picked up the book, scanning the title. “ _The Rise and Fall of a Civilisation: Phymifaryan culture and life in the early 32 nd century._ Why do you even bother with this stuff?” he wondered aloud. “We have a time machine, River! You can go there, you don’t need to read books about it.”

“I seem to recall having this discussion with you before, sweetie,” River said, a bit of a warning in her tone.

“Sorry,” the Doctor grumbled, though it was clear he had absolutely no understanding of his wife’s affection for “those dusty old books,” as he had a tendency of calling them. He set the book back down on the side table and took a seat on the sofa next to River. “So. What’s on your mind?”

“Like I said before, it’s nothing,” River said in a measured tone. “I’m just tired, and understandably so after all the running we did tonight.” This last bit was punctuated with an arched eyebrow and one of those _looks_ of hers, the kind she gave him after he’d done something particularly stupid.

He threw his hands up. “All right, all right! No more insulting governors.”

“Or other powerful figures,” she reminded him.

“But the running is the fun part!” he protested.

“I’d prefer to conserve the shoes I have left, sweetie, if that’s all right with you.”

They were silent for a moment; she fiddled with a loose thread on the arm of the sofa while he reflexively straightened his bowtie.

After a moment, he spoke again, voice quiet. “You don’t have to hide the damage anymore, you know.”

She sighed. “Old habits die hard.”

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

River took a deep breath in, steeling herself. She could do this; she trusted him, and he loved her. She was sure of that now.

“Were you… _with_ anyone, in those thousand years?”

He didn’t answer at first, merely opened and closed his mouth like a stunned fish, so she felt the need to clarify.

“I mean, I know it was a long time. I wouldn’t—Doctor, you know I never expected you to come back for me. I know you don’t like endings.” She shrugged. “And Clara… well, the way she acted… were you two together?”

“What? No! River, no, it wasn’t like that, she was my _friend_.”

“You can tell me the truth,” she said quietly. “I wouldn’t ever blame you for it. In fact, that’s all I ever wanted for you—to be happy. With or without me. So if you did… _do_ … love her, that’s all right.”

“River, of course I care about her. She’s my friend. But I’ve never thought of her that way. I didn’t see anyone—I wouldn’t, I mean, you were…”

“I didn’t expect you to wait for me.”

“Of course I waited for you, River! I _love_ you.” Those words always sent a little shock through her; looking at the expression on her face, he thought he perhaps didn’t tell her quite often enough. “How long has this been bothering you?”

“Since Trenzalore,” she admitted. “Ever since I saw you two together, I knew she loved you. You, though—your true emotions have always been hard for me to read.”

“Oh, River.” He felt guilty for not having cleared this up earlier, though he supposed he really couldn’t have foreseen this. “Clara may have had feelings for me, but I only ever loved you. And that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

He smiled. “I’m not going to let anything come between us ever again.”

“Oh, really?” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean that figuratively… or _literally_?”

“ _Rivah_ ,” he groaned. “Stop doing that!”

“What?” she asked innocently.

“You know what!”

“I’m afraid I don’t, sweetie.” She chuckled.

“Making everything I say sound… I don’t know, dirty!”

“Oh, shut up. It was _your_ mind that chose to interpret my words that way.” River smirked. “But for the record, I don’t mind.”

“I _know_ you don’t,” he muttered, then looked up and made eye contact with her, suddenly serious again. “River… you’re sure we’re okay now?”

The smirk disappeared from her face, and she nodded, seeming suddenly a little shy. In fact, if he hadn’t known her better, he’d say she was blushing.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment.

He blinked. “For what?”

“For waiting for me. It means a lot.”

He smoothed a strand of hair away from her face so he could look her in the eye. “It was only ever you, River.”

And then his lips met hers and the world melted away, both of them oblivious to the phone ringing in the background.


	3. Chapter 3

It took him a moment to realize that River was talking to him, dazed as he was by her kiss. Somehow, even after all this time, she always managed to do this to him. He was enchanted by her; always had been, and probably always would be. Though she had dropped the façade, though he now saw her for the flawed woman she really was, she still never ceased to amaze him. Every piece of her, the good and the bad, was beautiful to him. He supposed that was how it felt to love somebody.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, only barely resisting the temptation to pull her mouth back to his.

“You’re pulling my hair, sweetie.” She sounded amused but also slightly pained, and he snapped back to reality.

“What? Oh, sorry,” he apologized, trying to remove his fingers from where they had entangled themselves into her thick curls and making the knots worse in the process. Her hair was still more than a little damp from her recent shower (though no less springy than usual—it had magical powers, the Doctor was convinced, though River always laughed at him for suggesting it).

“Ouch!” She winced. “Doctor, can’t you be a little more careful?”

“Sorry!” he yelped. “I’m trying, I swear, but your hair is trying to eat my fingers!”

That made her laugh. “You act like it’s a living thing in and of itself.”

“It may as well be,” he said, still trying to disentangle his fingers. “For goodness’ sakes, River, what did you _do_ to it?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Have you got something on your fingers?”

“No! Why would I have something on my fingers?”

“One never knows with you, dear.” She gave him a pointed look which rather abruptly changed to a pained expression as he pulled her hair once more. “Ow!”

“Sorry.” His fingers were finally untangled, though. He scowled down at the appendages as if it were their fault that their owner had chosen to fiddle around with the TARDIS engines without bothering to wash the oil off afterwards.

She inspected his hands. “You _do_ have something on your hands!”

“I was only fiddling with the engines a little bit!” he protested.

River arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, _really_. Stop giving me that look.”

“I’ll stop giving you that look when you stop ‘fixing’ things that don’t need to be fixed, Doctor. Would it kill you to leave the TARDIS engines alone? The Old Girl doesn’t appreciate it, I can tell you that. She’s fine on her own.” As if in support of her declaration, the lights blinked off and then back on again.

“See? She agrees with me.” River crossed her arms over her chest, apparently pleased with herself. “Now if you’ll please excuse me, I have to go take a shower.”

“But you just took a shower,” he pointed out.

“Yes, and I’m going to need another one after you got God-knows-what in my hair.”

“ _Rivah_! Stop exaggerating. It wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s not _your_ hair that’s sticky, my love. And seeing as the state of my hair is _your_ fault, I think you should make it up to me.”

He sighed, resigned to his fate. Once River got an idea, there was nothing he could do but go along with it. She always— _always—_ got what she wanted. “What do you want me to do?”

She grinned wickedly. “Remember, you owe me eighteen pairs of shoes…”

***

Jenna walked quickly down to the mainframe, eager to get her task done as soon as was humanly possible. After this problem with Donna was solved, she was going to ask the Doctor and River to take her on a trip. Preferably to somewhere relaxing. She certainly deserved it after all the work she’d been doing lately.

Her communications device beeped in her pocket; exasperated, she pulled it out and glanced at the screen, which was now showing new readouts from the mainframe. Though there were other things she’d rather be doing at that moment, she had to admit that the values were certainly fascinating. She’d never seen the mainframe behave in this manner before. It was, quite frankly, worrying. Was there something wrong with CAL?

She hurried on towards her destination, anxious now to get there. She turned the lift up to maximum speed using her employee’s key (much to the chagrin of the other Library patrons), not bothering to reset it to normal after she had gotten off at the proper floor.

The entrance to the mainframe was locked, as it typically was. She twisted her key in the lock and hurried inside, not bothering to lock the door behind her. Anxiously, Jenna rounded the corner to the consoles and then to the adjoining room that housed the main command node—CAL.  

Upon first glance, everything appeared to be normal. There were no loose wires, flashing lights, or anything else alarming. The data core glowed as brightly as always in its alcove above her. But as Jenna looked closer, she could see that something was different—CAL’s eyes were closed.

“Charlotte?” she addressed the girl, knowing she probably couldn’t hear her. “Are you all right? What’s happened?”

The node’s face remained silent, eyes closed and expression blank. Jenna’s stomach knotted with dread. CAL was the reason the Library existed, the only thing that could keep it up and running. Without the computer CAL controlled, the system would shut down, not to mention the fact that Charlotte would die. After so long, she could not live without the computer. That was why the Doctor Moon existed: to safeguard CAL and to protect the Library. So why wasn’t it working now?

The device in Jenna’s pocket beeped again, a long string of short beeps that informed her that power was building in the mainframe again. Jenna frowned at the screen, tapping it against the wall a couple of times before reading the numbers again. What was going on? The mainframe didn’t even _have_ that much power in it, so how could her device be getting those readings?

She stepped forward towards the node, laying a hand flat on Charlotte’s cheek. It was cold, almost startlingly so; Jenna pulled her hand away quickly. The node felt as if it had been placed in a freezer, not as if it were about to overheat.

Everything else appeared to be normal; nothing appeared to have been tampered with, at least not externally. Something had to have happened, though. There was no way this was a normal function of this computer.

“Power usage reaching maximum,” a mechanical-sounding voice proclaimed from the console in the other room. Jenna left the node and entered the other room in time to see the same words appear across the console screen in red letters, flashing ominously.

Jenna looked at the readouts again, startled to find that the power readings had risen even higher in the minutes she’d been inside the room. Uneasily, she looked around. Her father had told her to try to figure out the problem and fix it, but she was beginning to wonder if it was even safe for her to be in there anymore. If the mainframe failed, the rest of the Library would be fine; without power, maybe, but still intact. Anything in the room, however, wouldn’t survive the explosion that was sure to follow a power buildup of that extent.

Jenna typed her father’s contact information into the device, but he didn’t get a chance to respond. A bolt of electricity arced from the device to the node, and Jenna dropped it with a sharp gasp.

“What the hell is going on?” she wondered aloud. She knew she had to get out of there before the computer failed—because it certainly _was_ going to fail—but she walked into the other room for one last glance at the command node before she left.

Charlotte’s eyes were open, now, she noticed with some dread. Hesitantly, she spoke to the node.

“Charlotte? Can you hear me?”

The girl’s mouth seemed to move, but Jenna could not understand her words, if she had indeed spoken at all. Thoroughly spooked, Jenna turned to leave—just as the data core above her sparked bright blue, sending out a surge of power and knocking her flat to the ground. As Jenna watched, Charlotte’s eyes glowed, and for the first time, Jenna heard her voice.

She could only catch scattered words; the girl’s voice wasn’t very strong, and the alarms that had been set off by the power surge all but drowned out her words.

“… _need…I need to…_ ”

“What do you need?” Jenna shouted over the din, getting up from the floor and walking over to the node. “What is it you’re trying to say?”

The node’s eyes fixed on her own as Jenna reached out to place a hand on her distant relation’s cheek. But before she could speak again, the systems failed in a blast of light and sound. It overwhelmed Jenna’s senses, and she was only vaguely aware of a whisper, a word, before everything went black.

***

“Doctor, someone called while we were busy,” River informed him, emerging from the shower with a towel wrapped around her head. “You should call them back.”

“Didn’t they leave a message?” he asked absentmindedly, much more focused on his current project—which appeared to River to be nothing more than a tangle of wires—than the phone call.

She rolled her eyes. “You haven’t set up the voicemail yet, sweetie.”

She’d recently gotten him a new phone, of the Earth variety. Much more convenient than the one in the TARDIS, she’d told him, though he was only half convinced. The Doctor had absolutely refused to use it, which had been a point of contention between them in the past few weeks. Though, to be honest, their arguments had been mostly playful and had usually ended in one of two ways—with the two of them kissing or off on another adventure for him to make it up to her. So she didn’t really mind.

“I’ve told you before, River,” came his reply, “we’ve already got a perfectly usable phone here on the TARDIS. There’s no reason to set up the voicemail on that _thing_ ”—he said it disdainfully—“because we won’t need to use it.”

River raised an eyebrow. “It’s really much easier to use, Doctor, as you’d see if you would just give it a chance.”

Exasperated, he set down his tools and turned to face her. “Why should I try it? The TARDIS phone is fine! And besides, she’ll be offended if we replace her.”

“We’ve been through this already.” Admittedly, this argument was getting rather old. She sighed. “Just call back whoever it was that called you, all right?”

“No!” His voice was petulant. “I’m busy.”

“Fine,” she said flatly. “I’ll do it, then.”

She crossed the room to where the phone, in the style of 21st century Earth, sat in its cradle, and picked it up, scrolling through the missed calls.

“Jenna called twice,” she observed, trying her best to pretend that the Doctor’s lack of acknowledgement didn’t bother her at all. “You should probably call her back.”

“I thought you were going to do that.”

Anger flared in her. “Doctor, you’re being unreasonable.”

He set down his tools with a sigh and turned to face her. “I’m not being unreasonable, I just like things the way they are!”

“You’re behaving like a child!” she burst out, frustrated but also oddly amused. There was a part of her that wanted to laugh at them.

_Look at the pair of you. We're all going to die right here, and you're just squabbling like an old married couple._

And so they were.

He had the most absurd pout on his face, and though she really knew she ought to be mad at him—to keep up appearances, if nothing else—she couldn’t help herself.

She giggled. Just a small laugh at first, but then it all came bubbling out until she was laughing hysterically, so hard she almost couldn’t breathe. She had almost regained control of herself when she took one look at his face—which was now fixed in an expression of perplexed confusion—and burst out laughing again.

“What is so funny?” He honestly had no idea why she was laughing—they had been in the middle of an argument; he was still cross with her, come to think of it. So why did he suddenly have the overwhelming urge to laugh, too?

“Just…” she could hardly get the words out between laughter. “We… are… _so_ married, Doctor. I mean”—here she had to pause for another breath between giggles—“here we are, having an argument over what kind of telephone to use. What kind of _telephone_ , of all things!”

He had to admit, it was sort of ridiculous. “River…”

Somehow, the notion that they were squabbling like an old married couple made her far happier than she should’ve been seeing as they were, after all, having an argument.

_You’re_ so _his wife._

“You remember the Byzantium?” she asked.

He wondered why she would bring it up now, of all times. “Of course I do.”

“Seems you were the only one that was oblivious, sweetie.” She smirked. “All those times. Amy, Mister Lux… they all guessed we were married. Correctly, I might add.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t think I’d get that lucky. You’re far out of my league, dear.”

Unexpectedly, she flushed bright red, causing her husband to chuckle in amusement.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“Shut up!” she said fiercely.

“Make me.”

She gave him a quick peck on the lips and then held out the phone to him. “Later. Right now, you’ve got a phone call to make.”

***

Donna did her best to amuse herself in Jenna’s flat. She paged through the novels, and, finding they weren’t of much interest to her, began flipping through the family albums on the coffee table. Most of the pictures showed a younger Jenna and a man that was probably her father, Donna assumed. Strangely enough, there seemed to be no pictures of Jenna with her mother. Donna guessed she had died or in some way wasn’t part of Jenna’s life anymore.

When she had finally run out of family albums to snoop through, she looked out the window. The Library stretched on as far as the eye could see; Donna wondered if it perhaps covered the entire planet. Hadn’t Jenna said it was the largest Library in the entire universe?

Before she could ponder that question any longer, she heard the phone ring in the kitchen; it was boredom as much as curiosity that prompted her to wander into the other room to check on it. The caller ID didn’t show a name, at least not a conventional one. It merely showed “TARDIS,” which, come to think of it, really wasn’t such a bad name for a space ship after all. Not if it could get her home…

Though she knew she really had no right, Donna had to take the chance. She reached over and picked up the phone, taking a deep breath before pushing the button to answer.

“Hello?”


	4. Chapter 4

“Jenna!” the Doctor said enthusiastically, causing Donna to pull the phone away from her ear and wince.

“You realize you don’t need to shout, right?” Donna said, still holding the phone a bit away from her ear in case a repeat performance was in store.

“Right, sorry,” the Doctor said sheepishly, and then realized that the voice that had answered the phone wasn’t Jenna’s. It was, however, vaguely familiar, and that made him uneasy. “Wait. You’re not Jenna.”

“Do I sound like her, spaceman?” She wasn’t sure where the nickname came from, but once it slipped out, it sounded right.

It was the nickname that gave her away. The Doctor blurted “Sorry, wrong number, gotta go!” and rather abruptly hung up the phone. He turned around to find River giving him one of those _looks_ of hers.

“Well?”

“Well, nothing, River. It was the wrong number.”

“Most people generally don’t fling the phone halfway across the room when they dial the wrong number, sweetie. What, was she trying to call her boyfriend or something?” She smirked.

“First of all, I am not ‘most people’—you should know that by now—and second of all, Jenna doesn’t have a boyfriend. I would know if she did.”

“Apparently you wouldn’t. She’s had a boyfriend for the last several visits, Doctor. His name is Art.”

“Well, I—you see, River… but—” he spluttered, unsure what to make of this interesting fact which apparently he’d missed. “Um, isn’t she a little young to have a boyfriend?”

River snorted. “By Time Lord standards, maybe. Darling, she’s _twenty-five_. You don’t even want to know how many boyfriends I’d had by that age—or when I looked that age, at any rate, in Leadworth.”

“You’re right, I don’t want to know,” he agreed.

“Anyway, Doctor, you’re getting off topic on purpose—don’t pretend to be innocent, I know you better than that. Who was that? I assume it wasn’t Jenna, judging by your reaction.”

“I’m telling you, it was the wrong number!”

“All right, then call Jenna back,” River suggested. The Doctor blanched at the thought, causing River to raise an eyebrow. “So there _is_ something you’re not telling me.”

“Yes, I mean _no_ , I mean… maybe! I don’t know.”

“Perhaps I should call, then, as you don’t appear in a state to do so,” she observed, stifling her laughter.

He swallowed his retort. “That would be good, dear.”

She dialed the number, feeling his anxious gaze boring into the back of her head the entire time.

“Don’t look at me like that, Doctor, you’re making me nervous,” River said without turning around, and pushed call. As the phone rang, she turned back to face her husband. “Unless there really is something to be nervous about?”

“No, dear,” he reassured her, but he was wringing his hands as he said it, a sure sign that he was nervous. “I was just… startled, is all.”

“Just be aware that I’ll kill you if this is some sort of prank,” she said, and then a voice on the other side of the phone said, “Hello?”

“Hello,” River replied. “I’m trying to reach Jenna Lux. Is she there?”

“Not at the moment.”

“May I ask who is speaking?”

There was a long pause in which Donna debated whether to give her real name or not.

“Donna Noble,” she said, and River frowned. How was this possible? She’d met Donna once, in the Library. Nice enough woman, if a little stubborn. Then again, River really didn’t have any right to remark upon anyone’s stubbornness. There was, after all, a reason she’d been called “the mule” in grade school.

“Who’s this?” Donna asked, and River snapped back to the present.

“River Song,” she said, half of her wondering if she shouldn’t give her real name. Hadn’t Donna lost her memories, in the end? The Doctor hadn’t talked about her much after she was gone—it was a subject too painful, and thus he avoided it. River couldn’t say she approved of his coping strategies, though she wasn’t altogether any better herself. But the Doctor had mentioned to her that Donna had lost her memories, and that she could not be reminded of him or else those buried memories would cause her death.

“You’re his wife, aren’t you?” Donna asked. “The man with the time machine. Medic, or something like that?”

“The Doctor. And yes, I’m his wife. You don’t… you don’t _know_ us, do you?”

This whole thing was making Donna rather confused. In fact, she as sure she could feel a headache coming on top of this entire disaster. As a result, she was slightly irritated.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? No, I haven’t met you, and I don’t understand why that bloody matters so long as you can get me home!”

“I take it Jenna told you we had a time machine,” River realized. “All right. Would you mind putting her on the phone?”

“Jenna’s not here,” Donna replied, sounding slightly exasperated. “She said she would be back soon, if you’d like to wait. Said she was checking on someth—”

The phone cut out, Donna’s voice replaced by a harsh beeping. River hung up and dialed the number again, but with no result. The phone refused to so much as ring.

River turned around to find the Doctor’s eyes on her, waiting for her to explain. She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest.

“It was Donna, wasn’t it? That’s why you threw the phone.”

“Yes,” he admitted quietly.

“Doctor, you should have just talked to her instead of hanging up like that. You were rude!”

“If I talked to her, her head would explode! I think that warrants a little rudeness.”

“She seemed all right to me,” River said. “Which really doesn’t make much sense, does it? You would think the Library alone would be enough to trigger it.”

“The real question is, how can Donna even _be_ in the Library?” the Doctor wondered. “You didn’t ask her how she got there, by any chance, did you?”

She shook her head. “The phone cut out; I’m not sure why. When I tried to redial, it didn’t even ring.”

“We’ve got to go to the Library,” the Doctor decided. “Can you trace the call back to the right time, or is your human phone not capable of that?”

River smirked. “Oh, come on, Doctor, did you think I didn’t upgrade it a bit? I couldn’t resist now that I’ve got a proper screwdriver of my own—thanks for that, by the way, you won’t regret it.”

“I hope not,” the Doctor cut in, giving her a warning look.

She merely laughed. “No promises, sweetie. Anyway. Don’t worry, I can trace the call back to the second it was made.”

“The TARDIS can trace it back to the millisecond.”

“Oh, shut up already. Is that much accuracy strictly necessary when you’re only going to mess up the coordinates anyway, Doctor?”

“I don’t mess them up _that_ much!”

She simply gave him a look and scanned the phone with her screwdriver. “Got it.”

“All right,” the Doctor said, and drew in a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

***

The first thing she noticed was the light. It was bright and… natural, as if the sun was shining down on her face. Not at all like the cold, mechanical light of the mainframe. Which, combined with the altogether natural scenery—there were trees _everywhere_ , and she couldn’t see a man-made object in sight—meant that she was most definitely _not_ in the mainframe.

Which begged the question: where was she?

Jenna sat up slowly, noting as she did that her entire body ached. It wasn’t a sharp sort of pain, but a dull, throbbing sensation; nevertheless, she didn’t have any desire to move any more than she absolutely had to.

How could she have gotten here? She tried to think back to the last things she remembered. There was Donna… the strange power readings… and, of course, touching the node. She’d put her hands on the Charlotte node just as the power had surged. She’d blacked out. And, somehow, she’d ended up here. Or she was still lying in the mainframe, dreaming of this. That was the only solution that made sense to her.

She pinched herself hard… and winced. It hurt just as much as it would in real life. So the dream possibility was out, then. Great. That was just _great_.

Maybe she had teleported? There were teleports in the Library, but none of them were near the mainframe. It didn’t make much sense, but she supposed that the power surges could have caused the teleports to malfunction. That still didn’t tell her where she was, though.

She squinted at the horizon. It seemed oddly out of focus, almost as if it wasn’t truly there, as if it was a painted backdrop. She had the strange feeling that when she closed her eyes, there was nothing, that she was floating in a void of empty space. She blinked, then opened her eyes again quickly as if she could catch the world in the act of resetting itself. It looked the same as it had before, but she still had the unsettling feeling that something wasn’t quite right. She chalked it up to whatever had happened to her back at the mainframe and decided the best thing she could do was try to get herself out of this mess.

Slowly and painfully, Jenna got to her feet. There was nothing she could do but walk and hope she found someone that could help her.

***

The lights went off, pitching the flat into semi-darkness, and the phone call cut out. Donna tried to redial the number, but the phone was completely dead. She sighed, feeling a bit irritated. It was the bloody future, and the human race still hadn’t managed to get rid of power outages!

And where on Earth—or not on Earth, as she supposed the saying didn’t exactly apply here—was Jenna? The woman was supposed to be her guide, her caretaker! But she had abandoned Donna at the drop of a hat, leaving her to solve her problems for herself. Oh, well. Maybe the Doctor and River would come for her. At least they knew where she was now.

She settled in to wait, grateful for the windows which let in the last light of the sun.

***

“This should be interesting,” River said, inputting the coordinates. She and the Doctor moved around the console, flipping switches and pulling levers. River turned on the blue stabilizers (which the Doctor promptly turned off, prompting her to turn them back on when he wasn’t looking), the Doctor insisted on leaving the brakes on, and everything was generally as chaotic and yet simultaneously as perfect as always. The TARDIS landed in the Library lobby with its signature sound, and the two travelers stepped out into the darkened room.

“Well, this is eerily similar to the expedition,” River commented, trying not to betray the uneasiness she was feeling. Despite the fact that this was a different time completely, as was evidenced by the crowds of confused people wandering around the Library, it was a little too like her final expedition for her tastes.

“Why are the lights off?” the Doctor wondered aloud, scanning the air with his screwdriver and coming up with no results.

“I don’t know, Doctor, but I think we should get to Jenna’s flat.” River grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers with his for comfort, and started off down the hall.

The lifts were down due to the power outage, and the hallways were dark and somewhat creepy. Though neither one wanted to admit it, they were both reminded of the Vashta Nerada and the terrible things that had happened here. As they walked at a brisk pace, River pulled out a flashlight from heaven only knew where (for once, the Doctor didn’t comment) and shined its comforting beam down the hall in front of them.

When at last they reached Jenna’s door, the Doctor was beginning to think they should’ve just landed directly in her flat. It had certainly been a long walk. But the last time they had visited, Jenna had been adamant: no TARDIS in her flat, no matter the situation. He was to land in the lobby and take the lift to her flat. At the time in question, the Doctor had landed it directly on her coffee table on accident, and that had been that. He was only now beginning to wish he’d heeded River’s advice that time and parked the Old Girl in the corridor outside the apartment.

River knocked on the wooden door, which was promptly answered by a familiar face—Donna.

“Took you long enough,” she said, opening up the door. “What was wrong with the com—oh. You’re not Jenna.”

“No,” the Doctor said (rather unhelpfully, River thought).

“So who are you, then?”

River stepped in before her husband (who was quite obviously a bit shocked to see his old friend in the flesh) could make a mess of the situation, as he had a tendency to do. “Professor River Song”—here she bit back the urge to add “archaeologist” to that, as she had when she’d first met Donna—“and this is my husband, the Doctor. We talked on the phone?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Donna looked relieved. “So you can get me home?”

“Well…” the Doctor began, but River cut him off before he could say anything.

“We’ll do our best,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Now, can we come in?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy October! My favorite month of the year. Hope you are all doing well and enjoying the first days of autumn!

“Jenna isn’t here, but I don’t think she would mind,” Donna said, stepping aside so that they could enter the flat. “She said she’d be back soon.”

“Where did she go?” the Doctor asked from the kitchen, where he had made himself right at home and was already putting Jammie Dodgers on a plate. Jenna always made a point of asking to stop at the supermarket on their trips so that they could pick a box up, as they couldn’t be bought at the Library. Privately, River suspected Jenna kept them there specifically for the Doctor; neither she nor River cared for them much.

“She said she was going to check on something…” Donna frowned. “Power surges from the mainframe, I think?”

“And how long ago was that?” The Doctor had returned from the kitchen, his plate and mouth both full of Jammie Dodgers. As a result, his words came out in a muffled and mostly unintelligible mumble. River made a mental note to tell him—after they had gotten themselves out of this mess, of course—that talking with one’s mouth full was rude.

“He wants to know how long ago she left,” River translated, and then apologized on her husband’s behalf. “Sorry. He hasn’t had Jammie Dodgers in a while, not that that’s any excuse for that display.”

“It’s fine,” Donna said. “She left about an hour ago, I’d say.”

“And when did the power go out?” River asked.

“Only a few minutes ago, but it’s already bloody cold in here,” Donna complained.

“Which isn’t good,” River surmised from the look on the Doctor’s face.

The Doctor let out a mumble that sounded like it was possibly meant to be “She might be in trouble if she was at the mainframe” (however, it could have also meant “Sharks eat bubblegum at the movie theatre”; River honestly wasn’t sure).

“We should look for her,” River agreed, deciding that he’d probably meant the first one, although you never knew. He was, after all, the Doctor. “The mainframe is where all the power was stored”—as she well knew, having once absorbed it all into herself, which was an experience she didn’t care to repeat—“and, as it’s likely she was there when the power went out, something could have happened to her.”

“Very likely, in fact,” the Doctor chimed in, having managed to chew and swallow all of the Jammie Dodgers which he’d shoved into his mouth. “So, Donna, you can wait here. River and I will go have a look at the mainframe.”

Donna didn’t look exactly thrilled at the prospect of more waiting, for which the Doctor supposed he could hardly blame her. He was, after all, an impatient sort of person himself. But it was safer she didn’t go; whatever had brought her there was almost certainly up to no good. It was a miracle her head hadn’t exploded already with his presence, and he preferred to be as careful as possible. So, despite her protests (which he quickly squashed), he and River set off towards the mainframe on their own.

***

There was no one. No one and nothing for miles around. Jenna didn’t know how far she had walked; a good deal of time seemed to have passed, though there were no apparent changes in the scenery. It was quite odd, in fact. If so much time had passed, why was the sun still high in the sky?

Either she had misjudged the amount of time, or that wasn’t the sun. Though the latter seemed unlikely, Jenna knew better than to rule it out. After all, stranger things had happened to her—ending up here being one of them.

When she was about to give up all hope of ever finding someone, she spotted a figure in the distance, so far and indistinct that she was hardly sure she saw it at all. But as she got closer, she was able to discern a human form—a child, she guessed, from the height—but the figure was not alone for long. A second, taller, form came into view, taking the child’s hand and leading it away.

“Wait!” Jenna’s shout rang out across the landscape, but it was met with no reply. Whoever it was that she had seen was gone.

***

“It looks strangely ordinary,” River observed as they walked into the mainframe. Looking around, she tried to keep her observations to a strictly scientific variety; she didn’t much like this place, if she was honest. It had been the site of so many memories, both good and bad. But the bad tended to outweigh the good in this particular situation.

“You’re right,” the Doctor agreed, acutely aware of where they were. His eyes strayed briefly to where she’d sat on that fateful day so long ago. It was where she had both died and come back to life, where he’d lost her and found her again… in short, the whole place gave him an uneasy feeling.

“Jenna?” River called quietly, turning the corner into the other room. The data core glowed brightly overhead—nothing unusual there—but there were sparks crackling over its surface. She frowned. _That_ was definitely not normal. “Doctor, come look at this.”

Her husband hurried into the room, scanning with his screwdriver. He, too, frowned. “There have been power surges in the mainframe, just like Donna said. But _why_? And what happened to Jenna?”

“She’s got to be alive,” River reasoned. “The body would be here if she wasn’t.”

“You would think,” he muttered. “Then again, this place does strange things to people. You don’t think the Vashta Nerada could be back, do you?”

“Unlikely. After a millennium, you’d think people would have noticed. I think it’s more likely she was uploaded. Charlotte—CAL, that is—does like to save people, after all.” Her voice was fond and a touch wistful, remembering the time she had spent in the database with the little girl.

“But why?” River could tell that the Doctor was getting frustrated. “None of this makes any sense! What caused the power surges in the first place, and how did that lead to Jenna getting uploaded—if she was uploaded at all? And why is Donna back in the Library?”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” River replied. It didn’t seem to make sense at all, did it? But she suspected there was some deeper connection that they weren’t seeing. All they could do was wait and continue compiling the facts until it became apparent.

“Can we get Jenna out of there?” the Doctor wondered aloud, scanning the Charlotte node with his screwdriver. That caused River pause—the little girl’s eyes, normally alert, were shut tightly.

“Doctor, her eyes are closed. Whatever happened, she’s hurt.”

“How do you know that? Maybe she’s sleeping.”

“Sweetie, this is my _daughter_ we’re talking about here.” Her voice was sharp. “She’s not sleeping. There’s something seriously wrong here.”

But the Doctor had moved on to the rest of the room and had picked something up off the floor. It was a handheld computer, the kind many of the Library staff carried around with them.

“Jenna’s computer. Wouldn’t this have been uploaded with her?”

“We have no idea how it works, Doctor,” she started, well aware of his thought process. “Don’t jump to conclu—“

“What if she was taken, River? Not uploaded, but taken. Her father has enemies, you know. Maybe they’re planning to ransom her.”

“For what, sweetie? Think about it. Don’t you think it’s more than a coincidence that the power surges coincided with her disappearance?”

“We’ve got to consider all options, River,” he said. “And right now, we just don’t have enough information to rule it out.”

***

Where were they? And what was taking so long? Donna was getting impatient. As a matter of fact, she’d been impatient when they’d left, which had been an immeasurable amount of minutes ago. It seemed like forever, although she couldn’t be sure as none of the clocks were working.

They should have let her go with them. She could have been of assistance… oh, but who was she kidding? She was nothing but a temp worker, and not even a very successful one at that. She was a nothing, a nobody, and nothing exciting ever seemed to happen to her. She always missed out on the alien visits and all that baloney that everyone else always seemed to be talking about.

Except this time. For some reason, out of all the people in the universe this could’ve happened to, _she_ had been the one transported to an alien planet. She had no idea why, or how she was going to get back, but those things were slowly beginning to become less important. The fact was, she was _here_. And she was going to make the best of it. Because it was the first time in her life that she had felt important, special, chosen for something great. She was not about to sit here in a dark little flat and let life pass her by.

So against her better judgement, Donna opened the door and walked outside.


	6. Chapter 6

“Donna?” the Doctor called, opening the door to Jenna’s flat. It was dark inside—no surprises there, as the power was still out—and oddly silent.

If there was one thing he remembered about Donna, it was that she was _never_ silent. She was always chattering on about one thing or another (he’d been known to tune her out once in a while, if he was perfectly honest) and she never failed to complain and/or insult him if given the opportunity.

So if she wasn’t answering him now, that could mean only one thing: she wasn’t there.

“Donna?” he called again as he and River entered the flat, quietly closing the door behind them.

“Doctor, I don’t think she’s here,” River whispered.

“Donna?” he called one last time, causing River to shush him.

“Quiet! If something took Donna, you just made sure it knew we’re here.”

“Sorry,” he whispered apologetically. Apparently he was just a bit too loud despite the whisper, because River rolled her eyes and put her finger to her lips. Pulling her sonic screwdriver out, she motioned for the Doctor advance down the hall.

They crept silently through the flat, scanning with screwdrivers and peering around corners. When they got to the main living area, they parted ways and each took a room to check. The Doctor went into the kitchen—if she wasn’t trying so hard to be silent, River would have reminded him that they were there to investigate, not to eat Jammie Dodgers—and River took the living room.

Scanning with her screwdriver, River could find nothing wrong with the room… but nevertheless, something felt off to her. Maybe the novels on the coffee table were in a slightly different position than they’d been in when they’d left; maybe it was that the pillow that usually rested on Jenna’s favorite chair was on the wrong side. It was something she couldn’t quite put a finger on, a niggling feeling that something wasn’t right. But she couldn’t find anything definitive, and so she turned to leave, casting one last look out the window before she left.

It was night by now, and the Doctor Moon had risen as it always did, silver and just a little too large, too perfect to be real. Looking out, River was reminded of those weeks spent in the Library by herself, the time when she had had a flat and a life of her own here. She wouldn’t say it had been a good time in her life, but it had brought her here, and that was what mattered.

Looking around the room one more time—she still couldn’t figure out what was out of place, which was beginning to annoy her—she stepped into the hall and turned the corner into the kitchen.

The Doctor was nowhere to be seen. And neither were the Jammie Dodgers, she realized with exasperation. Couldn’t he ever focus?

“Doctor?” she called quietly, hoping he was the only one there to hear her. If not, well… River Song had always been good with a blaster.

He didn’t answer; she frowned, wondering where he could have gotten to. Turning back towards the hallway, she left the kitchen and began walking down the hall to Jenna’s bedroom, the only place in the flat that they hadn’t yet looked in. As she opened the door to her friend’s bedroom, two hands darted out, encircling her wrists with a strong grip. She tried to wrench her wrists out of the intruder’s grasp but with little success; though River was strong, the position in which he had her pinned prevented her from moving much.

“Let go of me!” she hissed, and was met with a suspiciously familiar laugh from her captor.

Suddenly it all clicked into place.

“You _idiot_. I don’t know if this is your idea of a joke, sweetie, but this is _so_ not funny.”

 “I got you!” he exclaimed, letting go of her wrists and doing a little victory dance around the hall.

“Don’t you think that we’re not in the best position to be playing games right now?” River asked crossly.

“One point to me! I finally got you!”

She sighed. “Yes, you did. Happy now?”

They’d been playing this game for weeks, or at least the Doctor had. He had been complaining that she snuck up on him far too much, to which she had responded by challenging him to scare her. So far, the score was eleven to zero in favor of River. She was difficult to sneak up on, what with her good hearing and (the Doctor was convinced) magical sixth sense that alerted her to all of his attempts to sneak up on her. And the training from Kovarian certainly didn’t hurt, either.

“Yes, I’m happy,” he admitted, and she rolled her eyes.

“Can we _please_ get back to the current problem, Doctor? There are more important things than your bloody _game_ at the moment.”

“You take life too seriously,” he told her.

“You don’t take it seriously enough,” she retorted. “Now enough with the arguing. If anything was in there, it’s heard us already, so I don’t see the point in being stealthy.”

That said, she pushed open the door to Jenna’s bedroom to reveal a form sitting on the bed.

***

“Excuse me?” It was the first time Donna had seen anyone in several minutes; anyone real, that was. The nodes were all over—bloody horrible things as far as she was concerned; she certainly wasn’t about to ask one of _them_ for help—but it had been a while since she’d see an actual person and even longer since she’d seen a staff member.

“Can I help you?” He was a rather diminutive middle-aged man with a grey moustache and a slightly askew badge proclaiming his name to be Andrew (at least, it appeared to be Andrew. Apparently he had never learned to write properly and the penmanship left a little to be desired).

“Yes”—here Donna glanced at the nametag—“Andrew, I think you can. Could you tell me where the mainframe is?”

“I’m sorry?”

She dropped all semblance of politeness. “The mainframe. I’m looking for the mainframe.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I can’t help you with that. Perhaps you could ask one of the nodes?” He looked perplexed.

“Why is no one of any help at all around here?” Donna muttered under her breath. “I feel like Alice; nothing makes any sense anymore.” To Andrew she said: “I’m not interested in talking to the nodes. Is there anyone else that could possibly help me?”

He fidgeted with the moustache, an unattractive habit that Donna was sure his wife (if he had a wife) was always nagging at him to quit.

“Well,” he suggested nervously, “you might try Mister Lux. He’s in charge of this place; his family has owned it for generations.”

“Where can I find him?”

Andrew didn’t look quite thrilled to tell her the next bit, but he went on anyway, twisting the moustache as he spoke (which was really quite distracting to Donna, and understandably so). “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until tomorrow, ma’am.”

“Tomorrow? I can’t wait until tomorrow!” Donna practically shouted. She was more than done with this entire situation. She was supposed to be getting _married_ , for God’s sake! Why did something like this always have to happen?

“He’s gone home for the day, ma’am,” the meek man said. “And I really should be going as well. Good day to you.”

And with that he excused himself, disappearing back into the myriad bookshelves like he had never been there at all.

***

“Donna?” the Doctor asked, unable to make out the face of the form in Jenna’s room. “Is that you?”

“Does it look like I’m Donna, whoever she is?” It was a distinctly masculine voice. And it was also a distinctly _annoyed_ voice. The form rose from the bed to stand facing them, though it was too dark to make out his features.

“No, I suppose not,” the Doctor replied. “So… who are you, then?”

The man switched on a torch, illuminating his face in ominous shadows.

“Art,” River realized. “Lovely to see you again.”

“Great to see you, too,” he replied, though she doubted he was sincere. She had no idea why, but she had always gotten the feeling that Art resented their presence in Jenna’s life. To be honest, she had never been fond of him, either; though Jenna loved and trusted him implicitly, River felt that there was something sly and devious under his charming exterior. River knew the act only too well; it cropped up all too often in the kinds of people she had to deal with. On some levels she was capable of exactly the same sort of acting: using a charming front to conceal who she really was. But so far, Art appeared to be completely harmless. He did appear to genuinely love Jenna, and she him, and so River was sure to be polite whenever she saw him. The Doctor, on the other hand, was barely aware of his existence and (on purpose, River was sure) never bothered to learn his name.

“So, what brings you here?” River asked after a moment.

“Power outage. Just thought I’d check on Jenna.” He flashed one of those annoyingly charming smiles at her, the kind she was sure made women fall at his feet. River, however, was immune to such charms. Unless, of course, they came from her husband; somehow _he_ didn’t even have to give her a charming smile to have that effect on her, which, come to think of it, was really quite unfair.

River turned to the Doctor, wondering if they should tell Art that Jenna was missing. She didn’t know if they could trust him, but he was, after all, Jenna’s boyfriend. River felt sure Jenna would have wanted him to know.

“That’s why we’re here, too, actually,” she said casually. “We were looking for Jenna. You haven’t seen her recently, have you?”

“No; we had a date tonight, but she called it off. She had to run an errand for her father. Why?”

“She’s missing,” the Doctor said after a long moment of silence. “And so is our friend, Donna.”

“Missing?” River thought she heard a flicker of something like confusion mixed with anger in Art’s voice, but she chalked it up to her imagination. Art was Jenna’s boyfriend and childhood friend, and she trusted him. Maybe River didn’t trust him, but she would have to take Jenna’s word for it. He wouldn’t hurt Jenna.

“Yes, she’s been missing ever since the power outage,” the Doctor explained. “Not very long, but she was supposed to get back to Donna after just a few minutes. She’s been gone for more than an hour, and we found this in the mainframe.”

He took the computer from his bigger-on-the-inside pocket and held it out to Art.

“She must have dropped it,” Art realized. “But who took her? And why?”

“Someone didn’t necessarily take her,” River cut in. “There are other possibilities. We haven’t got all the information yet, so we can’t jump to conclusions. The Doctor and I have some theories, but there’s just not enough information to tell what happened.”

“So what do we do?” Art had begun to pace back and forth across the room, torch flickering madly and casting shadows on the walls.

“Well, we have to find Donna as well. We’ve got to get her home. She shouldn’t even be here,” the Doctor replied.

“Isn’t she your friend?”

“Yes, she is. Why?”

“Why shouldn’t she be here, then?”

River and the Doctor looked at one another before River finally turned back to Art.

“Trust me. It’s a _very_ long story.”

***

Donna was lost. She had consulted a staff member. She had consulted a map. And, after all else failed, she had broken down and consulted a node. None of which had helped her.

Unfortunately, she still had no idea how to get to the mainframe. No one seemed to know how to get there or even of its existence at all, which completely baffled her. Judging by the way Jenna had talked about it, the mainframe was a vital part of the Library. How could no one know about it?

Still more unfortunately, she now had no idea how to get back to Jenna’s flat. She should have taken down the address, she realized in retrospect. But for the moment, there was nothing she could do but keep walking.

Turning the corner to a new aisle, she nearly crashed into a pretty young woman browsing the magazines (she had apparently left the biographies section and was now in what appeared to be the fashion magazines).

“I’m sorry!” The woman’s eyes widened as she looked up at Donna, and she frowned as if trying to place where she had seen the woman before.

“That’s all right,” Donna said. “No harm done. You don’t happen to know where the mainframe is, do you?”

“Mainframe?” She frowned, obviously still thinking, and then her eyes lit up as it came back to her. “Donna. You’re the nice woman. I remember you.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Because I know you, Donna Noble. Don’t you remember me?”

***

“Let me get this straight: you met Donna here, a thousand years ago. You saved the people trapped here and then _you_ ”—he pointed to River—“died in the Library, and he saved you here, to the database. For a millennium. And then you were woken up when he needed help, and when you came back you tried to escape, only to end up at the hospital here. Which is where Jenna comes in. Because she was the nurse, and she helped _you_ ”—a gesture towards the Doctor this time—“take River back to your time machine, from which she then escaped and came back to the Library and lived here for a while until you came and got her again. And then it was happily-ever-after for you two. Until now.”

His tone was incredulous as he looked between the two of them, eyebrows raised.

River and the Doctor exchanged a glance—if he only knew half of the things they’d been through—and smiled.

“Yes, that just about sums it up,” the Doctor said finally.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Do we look like we’re kidding?” River asked, and Art studied their expressions before finally giving a resigned sigh.

“I guess not. So how do we get Jenna back?”

“Right to the point, unlike someone I know,” River teased the Doctor, flashing a smile at Art. “I think we’re going to like working together.”


	7. Chapter 7

Donna frowned. “Should I remember you?”

She searched her memory, trying to place the missing woman, but she came up with a blank. Nothing. No memory of the woman at all; she didn’t recognize her face. Was it possible that the woman was mistaking her for someone else? But no; she knew Donna’s name. How did she know Donna’s name?

Now the other woman looked puzzled as well. “You helped me. During the expedition. Here, at the Library. You were the only one to treat me well.”

“I think you’ve got the wrong Donna Noble,” she said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Wait.” The woman’s voice was so commanding that she froze in her tracks. “I can’t have the wrong Donna Noble. That is impossible. There is only one Donna Noble in the Library database. Only you.” She squinted as if trying to see something far away, her eyes unfocused for a moment before she locked eyes with Donna with an unnervingly forceful gaze. “CAL tells me there is another name for you. The DoctorDonna.”

Donna froze. “What did you say?”

“The DoctorDonna.”

First her name, and then the Doctor’s. This couldn’t be just a coincidence.

“Just who are you? Because if this is a joke, it’s not funny. Please tell me it’s not Nerys again.”

The woman frowned. “Who is Nerys? CAL does not have a record of this Nerys.”

“Your best friend,” Donna muttered and then frowned, unsure of why she had said that. It seemed familiar, as if she’d said it before. Well, of course she’d said it before—it wasn’t exactly an uncommon phrase—but it seemed oddly familiar, as if she’d said it before in a similar context. “What’s CAL? And who are you?”

“Not what. _Who_. CAL is Charlotte Abigail Lux, the main node of the computer. And I am Miss Evangelista. But then, you should already know that. Yet somehow, you don’t.”

Something about this entire encounter made Donna feel deeply uneasy; there was something so very, very wrong here, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was. It was simply odd that this whole thing was so familiar to Donna in a way she couldn’t quite place; stranger still that Evangelista recognized her while Donna had never seen the woman before. Not to mention the way that she had arrived in the Library.

“What do you want from me?” she asked, trying to sound tough but mostly failing. She was scared; who wouldn’t be? Trapped on what was apparently an alien planet, far away from home, and now she was lost on top of all that.

“I want to find out why you’re here. Or, rather, CAL does. But she is unable to project herself outside of the computer, and so I am here.”

“You’re a projection?”

“No.” Evangelista smiled. “In a way, I suppose, I am a projection, but that is not all I am.”

“You’re more than just a hologram from the computer, you mean.”

“I am like you, Donna Noble. I am a ghost.”

***

Jenna stumbled ever onwards towards the horizon. The landscape never changed; the sun never set, though an immeasurable amount of time had now passed; and the world around her was entirely deserted. Not once in all her walking had she seen so much as a mouse apart from when she had glimpsed the two figures on the horizon, and even they had faded so quickly that she was now unsure whether she’d seen them at all. It seemed almost as if a dream to her.

Though she had no food or drink, she never tired; for some reason, she did not think to question this fact. She did not hurt, either; once she had stumbled and fallen onto a sharp stick, an injury that would have caused a nasty gash on her leg, but her skin did not tear and she did not feel a thing. It was as if she was more idea than physical form here.

Sometimes she slept, but she never dreamed. She always thought, as she drifted off, that maybe this was the dream. Maybe she would wake up in the real world once she closed her eyes. But sleep brought only the inky blackness behind her closed eyelids; if sleep was a window into the real world, then she wondered what fate had befallen her there.

***

They had gone over the theories several times and been back down to the mainframe, but nothing had seemed to have helped. They were still right where they had started. Which was to say they had absolutely no idea what had happened to Jenna and absolutely no plan to get her back. And furthermore, Donna was still missing.

All in all, it was shaping up to be a typical day in the life of River and the Doctor.

“We’ve got to find Donna,” the Doctor was currently saying. “She’s got to be involved in this somehow. There’s a reason she was brought back to the Library now of all times.”

“How will finding Donna help us get Jenna back?” Art asked, clearly frustrated. “I don’t see how it’s going to get us anywhere.”

“We’re at a dead-end when it comes to Jenna,” River reasoned. “At least we can try to track down Donna. Even if she has nothing to do with this whole thing, at least she might be able to help us find the solution.”

“But what about Jenna? We can’t just stop trying to find her!”

“There’s nothing else we can do,” the Doctor said. “Now, we should split up and take different areas. I have no idea where Donna could have gone, but she can’t be too far. If we split up and search the area, we should be able to find her.”

River nodded, casting Art a sympathetic glance. He was obviously quite frustrated with Jenna’s disappearance, though he seemed more angry than worried. “I’ll take Biographies. Art, you can take the magazine section. Doctor, you’re on the History section.”

She had deliberately assigned the History section to the Doctor knowing that it would be the most boring to him; though she herself could get lost in the archaeology textbooks for hours on end, her husband didn’t share her passion for old ruins and fossilized bones. He preferred the more… _action-packed_ rendition, to put it nicely. In other words, he liked to go and get himself into trouble instead of having a nice peaceful afternoon reading about the civil war of the Rynah people in the mid-34th century. Which involved a lot more running and a lot less relaxing. Not that River minded the running (or the shooting) most of the time.

“We’ll meet back in the mainframe in an hour,” she finished. “Got it?”

The Doctor and Art both nodded, and they went out the door and down various hallways to begin their search.

***

“I’m not a ghost!” The words tumbled out of Donna’s mouth in a panicked shout, causing Evangelista to put her finger to her lips.

“Quiet. We don’t need to let the whole Library know where you are.”

Donna stiffened. “Are we hiding from something?”

“Not at all. We are just being cautious,” Evangelista reassured her, though she still felt unsettled. “Please, just follow me.”

Donna crossed her arms over her chest and planted herself firmly in the middle of the corridor. “Not until you tell me what you meant.”

“Exactly what I said. I am a ghost; you are a ghost. I died here, you know.”

“But… you’re _here_. In front of me. And I’m alive.”

“How do you know?”

“I just… _know_.” Donna was alive, she was sure of it. Wasn’t she?

“ _All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream_.” Evangelista swept past her, but there was no wind to signify her presence. A shiver ran down Donna’s spine. “Edgar Allan Poe. You may be familiar with him. He is from your general time period, I believe.”

“I never cared for poetry,” Donna muttered, reluctantly following the ghost woman.

“That is a shame. He is one of my favorites, now that I have developed an interest in reading. There is not much else to do in the data core.”

“Where are we going?”

“Home. You lived here once, though you do not remember it. We are going back to CAL.”

***

Art did not find Donna Noble in the magazine section. In fact, he didn’t see a single person, though he did find several interesting articles on supercomputers and a few fashion magazines (he would never admit to flipping through those, but the truth was that he may have looked more than he cared to admit.). At the end of the hour, he returned to the mainframe without any useful information.

***

The Doctor, to his credit, did not get distracted, though that may have had more to do with the fact that River had sent him to what he supposed to be the most boring part of the entire Library rather than his actually being on task. Though he meticulously combed every bookshelf and aisle, he did not find either of the things he was looking for. Donna Noble was nowhere to be seen, and a certain blue book written by a certain professor of archaeology was not hidden anywhere among the shelves.

He was, however, slightly consoled by the fact that he had found a couple of Jammie Dodgers hidden away in one of his pockets. They were only slightly stale.

***

River could have sat down and read the biographies for hours (especially the autobiographies—those were her favorites), but she did not. Though she was halfway tempted to look herself up, she resisted the urge and walked through all the bookshelves, calling Donna’s name. But the ginger-haired woman didn’t answer her, and so River gave in to temptation and let herself check out one book. Just _one_ , she told herself.

Of course, one turned into two turned into a lot more than that, and by the time she got back to the mainframe, she held a pile of books that stood well beyond her eyes.

“Who’s the distracted one now?” the Doctor pointed out as she walked in and set down her enormous load of books on the floor.

She gave him what could only be described as the River Song Death Glare. “They’re for my research.”

“You’re not a professor anymore, River.”

“Don’t remind me,” she snapped, eyes flashing. She hated this, she truly did. He had a tendency to make fun of archaeology, which annoyed her more than she cared to admit. “That was your fault, I’ll remind you. _You’re_ the one who left me here for a millennium.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t think sorry quite cuts it, do you?”

Art cleared his throat, causing both husband and wife’s gazes to snap onto him. “Hate to say it, but now isn’t the time to be squabbling like an old married couple.”

Oh, and hadn’t they heard that one so many times before?

“Well,” the Doctor pointed out, “we _are_ an old married couple.”

“Correction, sweetie. _You’re_ the old one; _I’m_ only just over two hundred. But Art is right.” River let out a long breath. “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“I was insensitive.”

“Yes, you were.”

“ _River_.”

“Well, you _were_.”

“Okay, yes, we’ve established that. Can we move on now?” The Doctor looked a bit uncomfortable, which was about the way Art was feeling.

“Yeah, that might be nice,” Art agreed, eager to get on with it. “So, what do we do next? I mean, I’m assuming no one has found Donna considering that we’re all here together and she isn’t.”

“I don’t know,” the Doctor admitted. “I hadn’t thought about that yet.”

“Didn’t you have a plan?” Art asked.

River rolled her eyes, still feeling a trifle annoyed with her husband. “He never has a plan. He’s lucky I married him; I’m the only thing keeping him out of trouble.”

“Yes, and most of time you’re also the reason I end up in trouble in the first place, coincidentally.” Her husband raised an eyebrow at her.

“Maybe so, but the difference is that I can get out of trouble by myself, while you are always in need of rescuing.” A wicked glint sprung to her eye. “Everyone knows that _you’re_ the damsel in distress in this relationship. I’m the knight in shining armor.”

“More like knight in high heels and unfairly distracting dresses.”

“Oh, so you’re blaming it on me? I’m just too _distracting_ , am I?”

“That’s right, it’s all your fault,” he affirmed.

“You love it,” she purred.

“Alright, can we _please_ just get back to the current problem?” Art burst out, frustrated. “If you want to flirt, do it later. And get yourselves a room, please.”

“Sorry,” the Doctor said, looking appropriately remorseful. River, on the other hand, didn’t look as if she regretted it for an instant. “Yes. So. Um, right, Jenna and Donna. We were talking about what to do next. Any ideas?” he asked hopefully.

“Actually,” River said, a sly smile spreading across her face, “I think I’ve got one part of our solution covered.”


	8. Chapter 8

River smiled as Donna came around the corner and into the mainframe; upon seeing River and the Doctor, Donna looked suitably guilty. She opened her mouth to begin explaining, but the Doctor cut her off before she had a chance to think of an appropriate excuse to use.

“What did you think you were doing? There was a reason we told you to stay put!”

Donna’s mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water. Then, apparently seeming to think better of using an excuse, she said, “Sorry.”

“Where were you?” River asked her.

Donna shrugged. “No idea, to be honest. I was completely lost until”—here she turned to Evangelista, who had entered the mainframe just after Donna—“she found me. What was your name again?”

“Miss Evangelista,” the woman replied, much to Art’s confusion.

Art elbowed the Doctor in the side and whispered, “Is your friend crazy or something?”

The Doctor looked completely baffled. “Not that I remember.”

River, on the other hand, looked completely shocked at the woman’s appearance and even—though she would die before admitting it—a bit afraid. “What the hell are _you_ doing here?” It came out a little more strongly than she had intended it, causing Donna to take a step back away from her.

But Miss Evangelista merely smiled. “A pleasure to see you again, Professor Song.”

“Likewise, I’m sure,” River said frostily, trying to hide just how unnerved she was feeling. Evangelista always seemed to show up at the turning points of her life, and River, quite frankly, wanted nothing more than to never have to see her again. Evangelista had been the first to die in the Library, preceding River’s death that day. She had been the one to wake River up from her dream in the database; it had been Evangelista’s voice that River had heard through her coma, Evangelista’s voice that had embodied her doubts and fears and, ultimately, caused her to wake up.

Whatever her reasons for being here now, they couldn’t be good.

“Who is she talking to?” Art whispered to the Doctor, who had taken out his sonic screwdriver and was busily scanning the room for any disturbances. Unable to find anything out of the ordinary, he put it away and told Art, just as baffled as the other man, “I have no idea.”

“Why are you here?” River asked what was, apparently, the empty air in front of her. She was not talking to Donna, for the woman made no move to answer her, but the Doctor had absolutely no idea who she could possibly be talking to that he couldn’t see.

“CAL is in trouble,” Evangelista said at the same time as the Doctor wondered aloud, “Who are you talking to, River?”

River turned to her husband with an irritated expression. “Don’t interrupt, Doctor, it’s rude.”

“I hardly think it counts as interrupting if I can’t hear the other half of the conversation,” he muttered under his breath, but was quickly silenced by a glare from his wife.

“What’s wrong with her?” River asked, brow furrowed. Though Charlotte was not really her daughter, they had been together for so long that she may as well have been. River felt responsible for her; after all, the girl had saved her life more than once. But though River had asked the Doctor about it on many occasions, they had come to the conclusion that nothing could be done to disconnect her mind from the database without killing her. The Library depended on her, and she depended on the Library. To disconnect her would kill her. If she didn’t die immediately, she would not last long; her illness had been what had caused her father to connect her into the mainframe, after all.

“We do not know,” Evangelista told her. “She has been… _different_ , shall we say, for a while now. She has still been running the database normally, but she has also had some sort of secret project going on. Naturally, I tried to find out as much as I could, but there are things even I cannot see. If CAL wants to hide something, there is no force in the database that can possibly find out her secrets."

“How are you here?” River frowned, trying to piece together the puzzle. If CAL was hurt, then how could Evangelista be here? Or was she even here at all?

“CAL sent me. She is sleeping,” the woman replied. “Not dead, not yet. But not completely alive, either. Just before her systems failed completely, she sent me here to find someone who could help. Which I suppose is you.”

River took a deep breath. “I don’t know how much we’ll be able to do for her, but we can try.” She turned to the Doctor. “I know we’ve looked into it before, but is there still a possibility we might be able to help?”

“Help who, dear?” He was completely and utterly confused.

She rolled her eyes. “Have you not been listening at all?”

“As a matter of fact, we haven’t,” Art informed her. “Who are you talking to, anyway? There’s no one there.”

“What?” At this, River was caught completely off guard. She turned back to Donna and Evangelista and then pulled out her sonic screwdriver, scanning the both of them. Sure enough, the device registered only one life form standing in front of her. Which made sense, really, as Evangelista was no longer living. She had no physical form; River had known that and simply assumed she was a projection sent by CAL from the database.

The question was, why couldn’t the others see her?

“I’m not just talking to myself, if that’s what you’re worried about,” River said slowly, turning back to face Art and the Doctor. “Donna isn’t alone. You can’t see her, apparently, but Miss Evangelista is standing next to Donna. You remember her, right, Doctor?”

He did, all too well. Evangelista had been the first casualty in the Library, and though she had been by no means the most meaningful to him, it had been her death that had made him realize just how much trouble they had been in. She had been the beginning of all this; he supposed it was fitting that he encounter her again now. He nodded to River, who addressed Evangelista again.

“Why can’t they see you?”

The ghost shrugged. “I am not really here.”

“But why can Donna and I see you, then?”

“It could be because you knew me before. When I was alive.” Her voice was detached as she said it, as if she’d long ago accepted that she was no longer something tangible, no longer of this world.

“The Doctor knew you, too. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe you are not really here, either,” Evangelista suggested, and the thought sent chills down River’s spine. But she was sure that she was here, that she was alive again. Her life wasn’t a dream anymore.

“All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream,” Donna whispered quietly, mostly to herself. But River heard. She took a deep breath in, steadying herself. This was not like the last time she had been in the Library. She was real now, with a real husband and real happiness. And she would not lose that again.

“I’m not in the database anymore,” she said firmly. “It must be something else.”

“Maybe so,” Evangelista said.

The Doctor and Art, meanwhile, were trying to puzzle out just what the conversation was about from only River’s half of the dialogue. Unfortunately, they weren’t having much success.

“What is she saying?” the Doctor wondered aloud, causing River to snap out of her thoughts to tell him, “She says CAL is hurt for some reason, possibly because of some secret project that CAL had going on. We’re not sure why Donna and I can see her and you can’t, but we’re working on it.”

“Can you ask her why she’s here?”

River looked amused. “She can hear you, you know.”

“All right.” He rephrased his question, trying (with limited success) to make eye contact with the area where he thought Evangelista to be standing. “Why are you here? Why now?”

“CAL needs help,” she said simply. River relayed this to the Doctor, and then suggested, “Maybe I should just talk to her? It would be easier that way.”

“All right,” he agreed.

“What do you think we can do?” River asked, trying to think of what they might be able to do for her that they hadn’t tried already. They’d been back to the Library many times before, thinking of different solutions for rescuing CAL, but it was always futile. They always reached the same conclusion: even if it were possible to safely restore CAL to her body, she would still die of the same terminal illness which had necessitated her being placed in the computer in the first place.

“Wake her up. She is dreaming again, but they are not good dreams. They are nightmares. She won’t last much longer; before long, she will be driven mad by her nightmares. It has to be soon.”

When River told this to the Doctor and Art, the latter looked confused.

“Who is CAL?”

“The computer’s main node,” the Doctor explained. “The CAL node is in control of the entire system; if she’s hurt, it’s really bad news for the rest of the Library.”

Art still looked confused. “But how can a computer have nightmares?”

“Not a computer,” River said, “a girl.”

 _Computers don’t dream_ , Anita had said so long ago.

 _No_ , Lux had told her, _but little girls do_.

All little girls have dreams. But all little girls are afraid of something.

All little girls have nightmares, too.

***

It was becoming harder and harder to stay awake now. The sky had gone completely dark, and it pressed in on Jenna, urging her to sleep. A voice she did not recognize whispered in her ear; it seemed young, as if it belonged to a child, but at the same time, she knew instinctively that it belonged to a being much, much older than herself.

_Please, please help me._

For a moment she opened her eyes and saw the girl—CAL, but Jenna was not thinking enough to realize who she was. She noticed only that the little girl was much smaller than her, huddled in among the tree roots and curled up in a ball as if she was crying. But when Jenna reached out to pat her shoulder, tell her everything was all right, she saw that the girl was not crying.

Her eyes were closed, eyelids flickering as if she were dreaming.

 _Please help me_ , the voice said again, and Jenna was sure it belonged to the little girl. But the child’s lips did not move other than to utter a silent scream that sent shivers running up and down Jenna’s spine. Whatever she was dreaming of, it wasn’t good. The girl’s lips formed words, but no sound came out, and her eyelids flickered wildly but never opened.

“It will be okay,” Jenna tried to say, but the words could not make it past her lips.

 _Help me. Please, help me._ The words escalated to an unbearable volume, and Charlotte’s closed eyes leaked tears.

_PLE—_

Suddenly, her expression went flat. Everything stopped.

And Jenna at last succumbed to sleep.

***

“So you’re saying that on top of Jenna missing, we’ve got a sick computer as well?” Art asked, incredulous. This was turning into a heck of a day… he’d known that the Doctor and River weren’t exactly normal people, but this wasn’t exactly what he’d pictured. Teleportation wasn’t out of the ordinary, and time travel… well, he could get used to that. But living computers? This was what the heart of the Library had been concealing all this time, what Jenna and her family had been protecting for so long? It was one hell of a family secret, and certainly not what Art had been expecting to find out.

It could change the world if the secret got out.

River grimaced. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. We’ve got an awful lot of problems today.”

“You’ve got that right,” Art agreed whole-heartedly.

“But what are we going to do to solve them?” Donna butted in. She’d had enough of sitting around and talking about their problems; if they didn’t actively try and do something, she figured, said problems would never get solved.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” the Doctor muttered. “I’ve been thinking, but I have no idea what to do. This is all linked to CAL somehow… you, Evangelista, even Jenna. Charlotte Abigail Lux is at the center of this puzzle yet again.”

“We need to wake her up,” River said. “Or communicate with her somehow. Like you said, Doctor, this is all connected to her; our first step needs to be helping her.”

“Yes, but how?” The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair, looking beyond frustrated. “If I thought I could do anything for her, I would’ve done it already.”

“There is one possibility we haven’t tried,” River began, but the Doctor glared at her.

“Absolutely not. You are _not_ going to hook yourself up to that computer again. Not after what happened last time.”

“But—”

“No. End of discussion.”

“Doctor, this could be our only chance. Don’t you think there’s more at stake here than just me?”

His voice was harsh and honest. “Actually, River, I don’t. You are the most important thing in this universe to me and I cannot risk losing you again. I don’t think I could live without you.”

For a second, she just stood there frozen and unmoving, completely floored by his words. But that second soon passed, and she launched herself into his arms.

“You’re never going to let me forget that I said that, are you?” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her.

“You’re right, I’m not,” he heard her say even though her head was buried in his jacket. “But if you must know, sweetie… you’re the most important thing in the universe to me, too.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween tomorrow, everyone!

Art cleared his throat, breaking into their thoughts. “Sweet as this is, we still have a very real problem here. So is there a solution to the problem or not? I know you said you didn’t want River to do whatever she suggested, but… if it’s our only option, we’ve got to do it.”

River lingered in the Doctor’s embrace for a moment longer, then stepped away with a sigh. “He’s right, Doctor. There’s not another way.”

“I can’t let you do this,” he said helplessly, knowing that if River had made up her mind, there was no changing it.

“You’re not _letting_ me do anything,” she said firmly. “I’ve made my decision; you can either accept that or argue with it, but you aren’t going to change my mind.”

Of course, he knew that very well. But he would still argue with it.

“River, please just think about this,” he pleaded. “It’s much too risky. After last time…”

He trailed off, not wanting to remember.

She _did_ remember the last time, that was the thing. And honestly, this scared her more than she would ever admit. But she was willing to do it if it meant that Jenna and Charlotte could be saved; this wasn’t just about her. So she took a deep breath, tried to beat down the fear, and said, “That won’t happen again. It’s not the same type of connection.”

“Yes, but it could be!” the Doctor protested. “Something could easily go wrong. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here!”

Better that way, she supposed. She would rather not know, because that had been the worst thing, sitting there watching the timer count down to the moment of her death. She had known exactly what she was doing; she had never had any intention of surviving, because she had known that it would kill her and she had done it anyway. This would not be like that. And at least if something went wrong, she wouldn’t know until it was too late.

River’s hand instinctively found its way to the holster on her hip, as it always did when she was scared. The heft of the blaster comforted her in a way that she couldn’t explain; perhaps it was a leftover habit from her childhood, her ingrained fighting instinct. Though she knew that this time a blaster would not protect her from what was to come, it gave her confidence all the same.

She looked the Doctor in the eye and tried to breathe evenly. “I know what I’m doing, Doctor. I can’t promise you that nothing will go wrong, but the fact is, there’s no other option right now.”

He met her gaze; something unspoken seemed to pass between them, and then he leaned down and gave her a sweet, gentle kiss.

After a moment, he stepped back with a sigh. “All right. But never again, all right?”

“No promises,” she said lightly, her tone teasing because she honestly didn’t know how else to conceal her fear. “I may just have to do it again sometime for a kiss like that.”

“All you have to do is ask, dear,” he responded, giving her a light bop on the nose (here, Donna whispered to Art, “They are such married idiots”) as he passed her and approached the door that led into the adjoining room of the mainframe. “Right, then. I think that this time, we should hook up to the node itself.”

“Will that really work, Doctor?” River frowned as she turned the corner and followed him into the next room. “If we want the best point of contact, we should go through the data core itself. That’s where the signal is strongest.”

“It’s also the most dangerous,” he pointed out. “No harm in starting slow. If this works, then we don’t have to take the risk. If it doesn’t, then there’s no harm done.”

“All right,” River agreed, pulling her sonic screwdriver out and scanning the area around the node. “What’s the best means of connection here? I have a couple of promising areas here, I think; there’s the third resistor here, or we could go for the capacitor over there…”

“Can you understand a word they’re saying?” Art asked Donna as the Doctor and River lapsed into a very technical-sounding debate over which area of the computer might be most likely to get them a successful connection.

Donna snorted. “What, you think I know what they’re talking about? I’m just a temp from Chiswick.”

“Chiswick?” Art asked, looking blank.

“Right, different planet,” Donna said, mostly for her own benefit. “It’s on Earth. Or it _was_ , in the 21st century.”

“Right, then,” Art muttered. “This is all just too weird.”

“Can’t disagree with you on that.”

Meanwhile, the Doctor and River had apparently decided on which of the wires they were going to use, though the Doctor was muttering unhappily beneath his breath (Donna guessed he hadn’t gotten his way for the second time in quick succession. She was right.).

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” he was saying even as they pulled wires out from the machinery.

“I never said it was,” River admitted, twisting three wires together into a tight coil and draping them over her arm so they would be out of the way while she worked on something else. “But it’s the only idea we have, so, sweetie, I’d suggest you stop giving me that look and just get on with it.”

“What look?” He tried (and failed) to wipe all expression from his face.

“The wounded puppy look. Give it up, Doctor, it won’t do you any good.” She zapped something with her screwdriver, causing a shower of sparks that made the Doctor yelp and jump backward (which, of course, made River chuckle in amusement).

“Fine,” he sighed, and then handed her the bundle of wires he’d been working on. “If you connect those into the third hapsid wire, it should make it safer.”

“If I connect these into the third hapsid wire, it will make communication next to impossible,” she corrected him.

“It will make it safer.”

“And decrease our chances of attaining a connection by eighty-six percent, so it’s not worth it.”

“Please just let me do this, River.” He sighed. “I don’t think you quite understand what I’m going through right now. I watched you die like this once already; I don’t care to do it again.”

“You won’t have to, sweetie. I’m going to be just fine,” she said, trying to sound reassuring.

“That tone of voice isn’t exactly convincing.”

She inhaled and the exhaled slowly, trying to calm herself. “Yes, well, I’m having a hard time with this, too,” she admitted.

“You don’t ha—“

“Yes, I do,” she interrupted before he could finish. “Before you say anything, I’m telling you now. I do have to do this. There’s just no other good option, and honestly, it will probably be fine anyway. You know that; I know that. I’ve run over the formulas several times already. I should be just fine.”

They were both being irrational, and they knew it; odds were, nothing at all would go wrong. But there was just something about the situation that had everyone in the room (with the exception of Miss Evangelista, who was as calm and collected as always) uneasy, and most especially River and the Doctor. Connecting herself to the database was the last thing River wanted to do, considering what had happened last time.

“All right,” the Doctor said, finishing up on his section of the wires. “Everything should be ready to go.”

River scanned the contraption one last time, checking to make sure everything was in place. Producing a hairband from the holster she wore around her waist (which the Doctor was sure she’d somehow managed to make bigger on the inside), she tied her hair back and picked up the circlet of wires, resting it on her head.

“Ready?” the Doctor asked, reaching for her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. She returned the squeeze and gave him a slightly shaky smile.

“Ready.”

***

_Hello? Can you hear me?_

Jenna’s eyes fluttered open to the darkness around her.

_Charlotte?_

“I’m here,” she tried to say, but no words came out. The air felt heavy around her, thick like breathing syrup. Part of her wondered if it might just be easier to give up, to close her eyes again and let the darkness take her. There was nothing else here but a faint voice calling in the distance and the realization that she could not scream to tell anyone where she was.

It was like a scene from one of her childhood nightmares; she had always been afraid of the dark after what had happened to her mother. The darkness itself hadn’t taken her; but it had been under cover of darkness that illness had stolen her away, and to a young Jenna it had seemed that the dark was a malevolent force, the source of all evil.

_I am trying to contact Charlotte Abigail Lux_ , the voice echoed, sounding vaguely familiar. _If there is anyone there to hear me, please try to reach me._

“I’m here!” Jenna shouted mentally, but the voice didn’t seem to hear her. It continued on as if she hadn’t spoken a word. Which, she supposed, was exactly the problem. She _hadn’t_ said a single thing; she wasn’t sure she could.

_If there is anyone listening, please take this message to CAL: This is only a nightmare. Wake up and it will all be over._

_Do not be afraid. We will be here for you when you wake._

_This message comes from the Doctor and River Song._


	10. Chapter 10

Images flashed before her closed eyes, searing themselves into the empty space behind her eyelids.

_A skull in a spacesuit, leering at her from the shadows._

_A shadow that moves and twists, throwing itself at her feet to attack._

_The flicker of green lights as consciousness fades._

_And, last of all, a man’s face, blurred by her tears, before there is a flash of light and everything goes black._

River awoke, gasping, and opened her eyes to the void around her.

The database was a strange place; it adopted whatever form the user needed most. For CAL, it was a home; for Jenna, a forest; and for River, it was nothing at all. It was simply an empty void, a nothingness that was oddly disconcerting and comforting all at once.

Once, she knew, it would have taken the shape of a house and two children, a husband who had stopped running from time and from her. Now, though, she needed nothing from the database, and it required nothing from her, and so it took its true form.

Once she had adjusted to the strange feeling of being back in the place she had called home for so long, she opened her mouth and called out into the void.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

Nothing moved; nothing stirred. It was as if she had never spoken at all. And had she, really? No breath had passed from her lips, because there was no air here. There was nothing here, nothing at all, and the thought sent a shiver running down River’s spine.

“Charlotte?” she asked again, without any hope that her daughter would hear her.

The empty air echoed no response, and she wondered if she might have more success trying to find Charlotte in her own version of the database. Closing her eyes, she pictured a house, a father, a phone that did not really ring. She pictured a child’s home, drawings of dinosaurs, a Library locked within a television set.

She opened her eyes to the room, but there was no one there. She walked to a door and opened it, looked outside.

Nothing but an empty void. Her world was a cheap facsimile of the place Charlotte called home, though Charlotte’s world was no more reality than River’s reproduction of it.

“I am trying to contact Charlotte Abigail Lux,” she tried again. “If there is anyone there to hear me, please try to reach me.”

This time she thought she heard something, a whisper, but it passed too quickly for her to be sure. Maybe she had heard nothing at all; perhaps it was only wishful thinking.

But even if she did not get a response, she might as well deliver the whole message.

“If there is anyone listening,” she addressed the empty air, “please take this message to CAL: This is only a nightmare. Wake up and it will all be over. Do not be afraid. We will be here for you when you wake.

This message comes from the Doctor and River Song.”

And then she was in the void again, alone, and wishing to wake up.

***

“Hello?” Jenna called out, surprised to hear her own voice once more. The name echoed out into the air around her, and she could hear crying again.

It was dark still, and oppressively so; she crawled blindly towards the sound, not sure if it was earth between her fingertips or something less tangible.

Where was she? Her mind whirled, and suddenly she felt more awake than she had felt in… however long it was she’d been here. She wasn’t sure; it could have been mere seconds, but it seemed to her as if days had passed.

Time wasn’t functioning properly, she realized with a jolt. Time wasn’t passing as it should; it was jumpy sometimes and dragged on unbearably long in other instances.

How had she gotten here? She couldn’t remember. Had something happened with the TARDIS to make her end up here? But no… she hadn’t been in the TARDIS. It was something else…

As her mind strained to remember, her hands made contact with something new, disrupting the uniform monotony of the earth below her. She gasped as she realized that she’d found the source of the crying: a little girl. A name came instantly to mind.

This was Charlotte.

She wasn’t sure exactly how she knew, or why she knew it now, but Jenna knew with certainty that this was who the message had been meant for.

 _Please take this message to CAL_ , the voice had said. Which meant that this was CAL, and she was in the database.

 _How?_ along with a variety of other questions whizzed through Jenna’s mind, but she quickly dismissed them. There would be time to figure it out later. For the moment, though, she would do what she could to make sure the message was received.

“This is just a dream,” she told the sleeping form, gathering the little girl into her lap. Tears dripped down her face and onto Jenna’s skin, though her eyes were closed. She showed no sign of having responded to Jenna’s words, merely curled into a tighter ball.

Jenna felt around in the darkness for the girl’s hand, grabbing it and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Charlotte?” she asked. “Can you hear me? You need to wake up now. It’s only a nightmare. Are you listening? It’s a nightmare. Wake up.”

***

When River’s eyes next opened, she half expected her view to be of the void once more; but, thankfully, the next sight she saw was that of her husband’s worried face slowly coming into focus as she came back to herself.

“River?” he was saying gently; she heard his voice as if through a fog, a bit distant but always drawing nearer.

She mentally shook herself out of her trance and forced her lips to move. “I’m fine.”

His face broke into a wide smile and he swooped in to place a kiss upon her lips. In her dazed state, she only half managed to push him away.

“Woah there, sweetie, can’t a woman have a moment to breathe?” she teased. “Head’s still a bit fuzzy from the connection. How long was I out?”

“Sorry,” he said, but he didn’t look like he was. In fact, though he appeared to be attempting to conceal it, his expression was one of immense relief. “Not long. Only about an hour or so.”

“An hour?” Time really did pass differently in the database, she reflected. To her, it had only seemed as if a few minutes had passed. “What on earth did you manage to talk about in my absence?”

“We didn’t,” Art told her with a smirk. “He was too busy worrying about you the entire time.”

“I was _not_ ,” the Doctor protested.

Donna snorted. “You _so_ were, spaceman.”

River smiled. “I won’t tease you about it, Doctor. We both know I would be doing exactly the same if you were the one connected to the database.” Beginning to unwind the wires from around her body—there were so many that she didn’t quite know where to start—she remarked conversationally, “So, how’s my hair? You know what the electric currents do to it.”

He grinned. “Same as ever, dear.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”

“Definitely a compliment.” It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t fond—perhaps a little _too_ fond—of that curly hair of hers. It became her, really; the hair, like the woman herself, was wild and beautiful and absolutely refused to be tamed.

She laughed. “Well, you certainly know how to flatter a girl. I’m sure it looks like hell,” she said cheerfully, pulling at a wire that was currently stuck in one of the aforementioned curls.

“Maybe a little,” the Doctor admitted, because her hair really _was_ fanned out around her head in an electrified mess that looked a bit like a cross between a lion’s mane and a halo, he thought. “But it looks great all the same.”

“You’re too sweet, darling,” she said, standing at last and kissing his cheek.

He blushed and muttered something unintelligible, straightening his bowtie. Thankfully, Art rescued him before he could make an even greater fool of himself.

“So, how did it go?” he asked. “Did you reach her?”

River frowned. “I couldn’t tell. I thought I heard something at one point, but I’m not sure. We might have to try again.”

At this point, the Doctor had recovered sufficiently to say, “No. We are _not_ doing that again.”

“If nothing happens, we might have to,” River pointed out. “But I hope it won’t come to that. I think we should wait a while.”

“All right.” The Doctor was only too quick to agree. “We’ll have to have someone monitoring the node at all times. The rest of us can go back to Jenna’s flat and try to sort the rest of this mess out. Any volunteers to watch first?”

“I will,” Art said immediately.

“Miss Evangelista should stay as well,” River suggested. “She knows Charlotte the best. If anything happens, she’ll be able to help her the most.”

There was also the added bonus that River wouldn’t have to spend as much time with Evangelista if she was on watch; though River knew it wasn’t her fault at all, the woman simply put her on edge. She would focus better without Evangelista hovering over her like a bad omen she just couldn’t shake.

Fortunately, no one seemed to have any reason to argue with this suggestion; Art looked a bit uncomfortable at the thought of having to spend the next hours with what was, essentially, a ghost, but he acquiesced and so it was agreed that they would watch for four hours, at which point Art would switch out with someone else. The Doctor had used his screwdriver to modify Art’s computer so that he could call Jenna’s phone in case anything happened and was now busy pestering Art about making sure to call if the slightest thing happened.

“Call us if anything happens,” the Doctor reminded him one last time as they walked out, at which Art rolled his eyes.

“I will, I swear.”

“ _Anything_ at all, even if it’s small.”

“Doctor,” River laughed, taking him by the hand. “I think he understands. Now come on, we’ve got work to do.”

***

_Wake up. You’ve got to wake up._

Flashes of images like lightning on a stormy night floated through her mind and she heard but she could not wake.

_They are always arguing now. Charlotte wishes the doctors had never come, because that is when this all started. That is all she really understands, that everything changed the day the doctors came. Before, they had been happy; but now, they are anything but, and all she wants to do is hide herself away, bury herself in the books she loves in order to avoid the sounds of raised voices and a family being torn apart only a few rooms away._

_She loves her books now more than ever. They are her only constant in a universe that seems determined to make her life miserable. She loves those books because they are the only thing that can take her far, far away. In books, she can escape from reality, from the angry words of her parents and the whispers of the doctors warning that she is going to die._

_She doesn’t want to die. Though she is young, she knows that there is so much more to life than this. She wants to live, to see the universe before death comes to greet her. She wants to explore like the heroes of her books, go on daring adventures and fight dragons and Slitheen and whatever else is out there in the universe. She wants it so much that it hurts, deep in her chest like her heart is breaking._

_It is breaking, she knows. It has been broken since the day she was born, and soon there will be nothing left. She has known this nearly as long as she can remember, that she was born to die, but sometimes she does remember the days before. She remembers running and leaping and splashing. She remembers what it is like to be happy, to not know that her heart was broken._

_And then the doctors came. And there was no more running, no more leaping or playing. There was only this room, white and sterile, the bed she is seldom allowed to get out of._

_‘Strenuous exercise could worsen her condition,’ she hears them whisper when they think she is asleep. ‘It is for the best that she be confined to bed_.’

_So she loses herself in the stories, because they are all she has left now._

She needed to wake up. She knew that even in her nightmare. But the memories would not leave her alone; her eyes were heavy and would not open.

_Wake up. Charlotte, you have to wake up._


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys. I know it's been forever, and for that I am very sorry. Life caught up to me. But I've written all but the last chapter of this story now, so I'll be going back through and editing it before finishing it all up. The posting schedule should go back to normal after this. Thanks so much to any of you who are still with me! It means a lot that you take the time to read my work, and even more that you leave me comments. I appreciate each and every one of you.

_“A library.” His voice is shaking as he says the words, but he puts on a happy smile. “Wouldn’t you like that, Charlotte?”_

_“A library,” she echoes. “For me, Daddy?”_

_“Yes, darling. The biggest library in the universe. The Charlotte Abigail Lux Library. How would you like to live in the biggest library in the universe?”_

_“How big?” she asks, imagining it already._

_“An entire planet, books as far as the eye can see. Every book that was ever written… every book that will ever be written.”_

_What better place to live? Anywhere is better than here, she thinks, and then feels guilty for thinking that. But it’s true; she is miserable here. The books are her only escape. A library seems like paradise._

_Still… she frowns. “Why, Daddy?”_

_“Why will it have every book?” His forehead wrinkles with confusion along the worry lines that have steadily etched themselves into his skull in the past years._

_“No, why would you build a library for me?”_

_If she’s not mistaken, he looks panicked at the question. “You love to read,” he supplies quickly._

_“Caroline loves to read,” she points out, naming her eldest sister. “But you didn’t build a library for her.”_

_Instantly she regrets pushing it; his face crumples and the truth is that she knows exactly why. She knows why her sisters do not get a library and she does. It is because she is sick, because she is dying and everyone knows it. No one will say it to her face, but she knows with a maturity that is far beyond her years that they are just trying to keep from hurting her. But really, she thinks, it hurts more that they do not say a word. She wants them to acknowledge it. She does not want her illness to be the silence that is slowly tearing this house apart._

_Her father swallows hard, reaches out to smooth back her hair. He doesn’t even try to answer her question. “I love you, Callie.”_

_She gives him a weak smile and squeezes his hand. “I love you too, Daddy.”_

***

“So…” Making conversation with a ghost certainly wasn’t easy, as Art had discovered over the course of the past hour.

They’d been sitting in the mainframe in silence for roughly an hour, which to Art had seemed like an eternity. Miss Evangelista definitely wasn’t the most talkative person, at least not as she was now—back on the expedition she had been much chattier, but now she seemed to spend most of her time lost in thought. It was much easier being alone in her mind now; as she had once told Donna and then River, a decimal had indeed shifted in her IQ upon her upload. Her mind was simply never quiet anymore the way it used to be. Sometimes she missed the quietness; her life had been so easy before. Now, she thought more like a computer than an actual person. She sometimes wondered what her old self would think if she saw her now. Would the old Miss Evangelista be proud of what she had become?

“So?” she responded, more out of politeness than anything else.

“Do you think we can get her out of there?” Art wondered aloud.

“Your girlfriend.” It wasn’t a question.

“Um.” He cleared his throat, looking flustered for a moment before he composed himself. “Yeah. Jenna. If she’s in there at all.”

Evangelista’s brain was already running through the formulas as he spoke, calculating the precise probability that she had been uploaded at all and the probability that everything would work out fine.

“If Charlotte wakes up, the success rate is nearly one hundred percent. Ninety-nine point eight zero three percent, to be precise.”

“And if the computer does fail?” Art asked grimly.

“In the event of total computer failure, there is no chance of survival,” she told him matter-of-factly. Then, realizing she may have come off as a bit harsh, she added, “Don’t worry. I’m sure everything will work out fine.”

As a matter of fact, she wasn’t at all sure; it was hard for her to lie now, knowing what she did, but she knew it would make it easier on him. Her brain held the keys to the universe and the answers to every question Art could ask her. The truth was, he should be worrying. All of them should. With the way Charlotte was looking now, they didn’t have much time left. Even now Evangelista could feel herself fading; it would not be long before the computer failed completely and she disappeared.

“I hope so,” he muttered, and they returned to silence.

***

Meanwhile, back in Jenna’s flat, River, Donna, and the Doctor were poring over a variety of dusty old books that they’d managed to hunt down among the Library’s myriad shelves. So far, their search had turned up very little in the way of results—though the Doctor had learned a few fascinating facts about computers that could be useful to him when fiddling around on the TARDIS.

“This is gibberish,” Donna said at last, throwing the book down with a heavy _thunk_ and rubbing her eyes. “I can’t understand a word it says.”

“She’s right, Doctor,” River said sympathetically. “I doubt this is getting us far. We should probably think about other solutions, because I don’t think a book is going to fix this one, unfortunately.”

“What will, then?” he wondered aloud. “If we can’t get Charlotte to wake up, we’ll have an entirely new problem on our hands. Not only will Jenna be missing, but the Library will be in chaos, and Donna’s still here.”

“We could solve that particular problem,” Donna input. “Couldn’t you just take me home now? You have a time machine.”

“No; you’ve got something to do with all this, too.”

She threw her hands down in exasperation. “I’m not going to make it back in time for the wedding!”

The Doctor grinned. “You will. Time machine, remember?”

“I’m not above stealing that time machine to get back home if it takes much longer,” Donna warned, which made River smile—oh, if he only knew all the times she’d stolen his TARDIS. And he never even noticed. Either she was that stealthy or he was that oblivious; maybe it was a combination of the two.

“It won’t come to that,” he assured her. “We’ll have you home before you know it.”

“I certainly know it already, spaceman,” she grumbled under her breath, but it was no use arguing with him and besides, he did have a point. If she was wrapped up in this mystery as well, she needed to be there to solve it. “So what do we do now?”

“I hadn’t really thought about that,” the Doctor admitted, causing River to chuckle fondly.

“He’s not very good at planning ahead,” she stage-whispered to Donna, who smiled wryly.

“I can see that,” the other woman stage-whispered back.

“I can hear you, you know,” the Doctor pointed out.

River grinned. “That’s exactly the point, sweetie. Now, where were we?” she asked innocently, pretending to think. “Oh, right. Your lack of a plan.”

“ _Rivah_!” he protested. “I _do_ have a plan. Sort of. Maybe.”

“You’re not fooling anyone. Now, if you haven’t got a plan, I suppose it’s up to me. I say we try to connect into the database one last time. It should give her the necessary jumpstart.”

The Doctor opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off before he could say a word. “And before you say it’s too dangerous, I’d like to remind you that we’ve exhausted our options, Doctor. I’ve done some calculations and I think this will give us the best chance.”

“But—”

“I’m in charge here,” she said firmly. “And anyway, you know as well as me that this is what needs to be done. We’ll take precautions and everything will be fine.”

He sighed. “Why can’t someone else do it? Me, for example.”

She rolled her eyes. “We all know I have the best chance. I’ve done it before; I lived there, even. Truly, there’s no one more suited for the task.”

“Fine,” he said, deciding to spare her the argument. Nothing could change her mind, anyway. “I assume you want to hook up directly to the data core this time?”

River nodded.

“Hey,” Donna said after a moment. “Couldn’t I do it? I mean, I’ve been in there as well. It makes sense.”

The Doctor stopped dead, staring at her. “What did you just say?”

“I’ve…” All of a sudden, she realized. “I’ve been here before, haven’t I? And I’ve been in the data core. She… CAL… uploaded me. And there were creatures.” She frowned. “Shadows? But that doesn’t make any sense, shadows aren’t monsters.”

As Donna rambled on, frantically trying to remember something which was rapidly slipping out of her reach, the Doctor and River exchanged a worried glance. Whatever was happening to Donna, it couldn’t be good. Oh, the Doctor would like to think she could get her memories back and be fine, but that couldn’t happen. It simply wasn’t possible.

“Um, Donna,” the Doctor started, but River laid a hand on his arm, silently holding him back. If Donna was remembering, there wasn’t much they could do about it.

“Do you feel all right?” River asked. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Are you kidding?” Donna snorted. “Never been better.”

“So…” the Doctor said cautiously. “Just how much do you remember?”

Donna frowned. “Well, parts of it are fuzzy, but more and more is coming back. How the hell did I forget all this? So much of my life, just gone.”

Donna stopped, noticing the Doctor’s guilty expression. “It was you?”

He grimaced. “I take it you don’t remember that bit.”

“No. But you can bet that when I do, you’ll hear about it.”

“It was necessary,” he told her. “I had to… there was nothing else I could do.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?” Donna said brightly. “It’s nearly all back now. No harm done.”

But as River and the Doctor looked at one another, they knew that wasn’t quite the truth. A _lot_ of harm could have been done—but not from her forgetting. The remembering was the problem.

“River,” the Doctor said, “can I have a word? Excuse us, Donna.”

He pulled her into the hallway and over to the front door, safely out of earshot of Donna.

“What are we going to do?” he whispered frantically. “Something’s wrong!”

“Not panic, for one thing, sweetie,” she said calmly. “We just need to approach this like any other problem, one step at a time. Whatever brought her here, it’s got to be connected to CAL and her project. There’s something we don’t know, and I have the feeling that that one piece is what we need to put the puzzle together.”

“So how do we find that piece?” he asked, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“You tell me,” she said, trying to get him to think. “Come on, Doctor. You need to think clearly.”

“I don’t know! Why does everyone expect me to know everything? I don’t, I’m not magical, I’m not even a good man.”

River blinked and reached out to take his hand. “It’s okay, Doctor. I know you don’t know everything; no one possibly could. And you’re wrong; you are a good man. You’ve made mistakes, yes, but haven’t we all? After all, I killed the best man I knew.”

She smiled. “The point is, darling, no one expects you to fix this. Not on your own. We’re all here for you; we’re in this together.”

He sighed. “Thanks, River.”

“Always.”

He smiled at her and she wrapped her arms around him, pouring all of her love into the embrace. They stood like that, quiet, for a few moments, until she stepped back and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Now, Doctor. Let’s think of a plan.”


End file.
